Trespass
by sisterglitch
Summary: Edward breaks the Cullen/Quileute treaty. Edward's fate lies in the hands of his father, his family, Jacob and the Quileute tribal council. No lemons. OOC NON-Canon Jacob. Canon timeline: Eclipse . WARNING: corporal punishment.
1. 1 Careless & Irresponsible

**Author's note:** The advisory I will give here is less about corporal punishment, which I assume you are expecting, than about readers' character assumptions. This is perhaps not the Carlisle you have imagined. I hope after reading this story, you will think of him differently. Carlisle was born in the brain of Stephenie Meyer, and with no disrespect, I have taken her fatherly, long-suffering pacifist out of character and given him more edge. You wouldn't want every story to be the same, now would you? Towards Edward, Ms. Meyer's prince-in-waiting, there will be a guardian/father's affection but no babying. This story is rated on the milder end of M –- for now.

**Careless & Irresponsible**

I finished getting dressed for school and tried to guess the outside temperature by scanning the dark river and pale sky through the huge windows of my room. I absolutely reveled in the heavy clouds hanging low over the tree tops. _Oh yeah! A white day. Love it!_ _It might snow finally!_ _Hello! It's winter already!_ _Can we have something other than rain, rain and more damn rain?_ Though I didn't mind the rain so much, Bella hated the wet. She hated the cold too, but she chose to live here in Washington where we had 300 days a year of one or both. She was such a fragile little thing. It must be hell for her most days, but she rarely complained. She had turned down a life of warm beaches and constant Florida sun for life in the sodden Pacific Northwest rain forests – to be with me. _Grateful me. An understatement!_

It was probably cold enough for down today, and all the other kids at school would be bundled up to their eyes. Nobody in my family needed jackets for warmth - just for appearances - so I imprudently chose to wear the expensive leather motorcycle jacket my favorite sister had picked up in downtown LA on a recent shopping spree. The leather was cool and satiny to the touch – like my skin, Bella said. It was extravagantly supple and polished, a rich deep brown - like her eyes. Bella thought it looked hot on me, and that was the best reason of all to wear it! I'd stand out at school, as usual, being dressed too lightly for the day. So when did I not stand out anyway? Cool guys never wore down jackets.

I heard my "brothers and sisters" noisily passing through the kitchen, their voices muting as they filed into the garage. I was the last one ready, as usual. _Why is that?_ I grabbed my jacket, my backpack, turned out the bedroom light.

Before I could round the corner of my door and enter the hallway, I pulled up short. Carlisle was in the hallway, walking my direction at a very human pace. He was on his cell. He was happily absorbed in the conversation. _Must be mom!_ He dropped his keys into one of the deep outside pockets of his charcoal-gray overcoat, draped over his arm along with the scarf Alice insisted he wear to work...some designer nonsense she insisted would impress his co-workers. She was usually right.

He wore a long-sleeved shirt and dress slacks instead of the scrubs that were his usual Tuesday attire. The clothes did not look ostentatious, but you knew, if he was dressed by Alice, the shirt would be Egyptian cotton, the slacks Afghani cashmere and the overcoat something impossibly exquisite like Peruvian vicuña. It must often occur to outside observers, i.e. humans, that he looked a little too handsome and sophisticated to be the father of five teenagers living in a backwards town like Forks. He exuded a charming atavistic air, though he worked hard to appear passably modern, to keep his vocabulary and knowledge up-to-date. Living with teenagers certainly helped him stay current. Carlisle Cullen, the gracious aristocrat, the devoted physician, after 270 years as a "monster", was still the most human of us all.

"Mmmm...I miss you too." He murmured, a subtle, intimate smile drifting over his still lips and eyes. "OK, then, see you this evening." _Yeah, it's mom_. He looked up, dropping the phone into the pocket with the keys.

"Morning, Carlisle. I thought you'd left for the hospital already."

His eyes met mine directly and warmly - as always. He was the most important person in my world until Bella found me. First, my savior, then my companion and friend, now, for all intents and purposes, my father. I scanned his mind quickly. He objected to my mental intrusions; he constantly admonished me to give other people privacy in their own heads. And, he knew me too well. He knew I just couldn't resist dipping in for a moment to test his waters...but all I encountered was a haze I thought of as a veil, an emotional screen, that scrambled or obscured the things he wished to keep to himself. I flinched inwardly as if I had touched an unexpected barrier in a dark room. He had learned to block his thoughts from me, his accidental voyeur. _OK, not always so accidental! _ He was blocking them now. My expression must have revealed my attempt at intrusion. His lips tightened slightly, then relaxed, as if he had started to smile but had caught himself. His eyes were caring, but there was something else behind them this morning.

"Your mother called from her hotel. She'll be home this evening. She saw some 'incredible' modern desk at the Seattle Design Center - for my study. I told her to just take a photo and send it to my phone." He rolled his eyes. "I don't know what's so wrong with the desk I have now. She says she appreciates that I'm frugal, but I don't need to 'make do, with that old thing' in my study. Seventeenth century English inlaid mahogany is not exactly a garage sale piece! It's very valuable. And besides, it has great sentimental value." He smiled to himself. "Gotta love her!"

Despite his casual banter, the fact that he was still blocking nagged at me. Rose honked her horn three times. At least she wasn't impatiently leaning on it like she usually did.

"Well, I need to go..." I said, starting to move, heading for the staircase. I smiled wryly, "Don't want to piss Rose off!" My brow creased with surprise when I heard the unexpected but unmistakable sound of Rose's engine racing down the driveway towards the main road. "OK! Fine then!" I spat, somewhat irritated at being left so rudely. It was hardly a major problem, though. In this household there were more vehicles than people. The more serious problem would be making up my mind which one to take!

I moved to the right side of the hall to pass him, but he reached out an elegant, manicured hand, gently resting it on my chest. "Edward, I sent the others on to school in Rose's car. I will drop you off on my way to the hospital."

"Oh. OK…sure...but" I was more than a little confused now. "You know, if I don't go now I'll be late for first period."

"_Late for Bella, you mean."_ He checked his cell for the time. "You'll have to write a note for the attendance office. Sign my name."

_Damn!_ The fifteen or so minutes before first period was my time with Bella each day. We didn't have any classes together this semester, though we had tried our best to coordinate at least one. That meant I saw her before school, at lunch for half an hour and after school for twenty minutes. It just wasn't enough. Who am I kidding? There was no such thing as enough. Enough wasn't a matter of total minutes and hours, it was a matter of quality, of closeness, of communication, not necessarily the verbal kind. I would always want to touch her more, to feel her closer, to entwine myself in her. Her exquisitely soft skin, those deep unreadable eyes... the way she smelled... wet from the rain... in the ragged sweats she loved... dirty... clean... mad... happy... asleep in my arms... all the amazing scents of my living, breathing Bella.

I refocused my thoughts to the present moment. I owed Carlisle my attention. I hoped I did not look as reluctant as I felt. "So, what's up, Carlisle? Do you need me to help you with something?" He said nothing, just continued to appraise me.

"Don't you have surgery at 8am on Tuesdays?" I ventured, feeling a little unbalanced by his focus. I broke our gaze, looking down at my jacket, shifting my backpack to the other shoulder.

"Yes, "He cleared his throat. "I was supposed to be in surgery this morning, but I'm having Dr. Kwon take over. I need to deal with something here this morning."

"Oh?" I asked politely, not really understanding, not really caring. Thoughts of my planned day still pulled at me. He stepped forward slightly, his presence in my personal space unexpected but not unwelcome. I rested my hand on the crisp fabric of his sleeve. He covered my hand with his own.

He shifted his gaze to my open bedroom door. He took a deep breath. _"Let's sit down, son. Put your things down," _he thought. It was not forceful, but it was a directive. Obedience was not an option with my father. He expected it, no questions asked.

_He asked another doctor to take his place in surgery. I know how he hates to do that. This is because... he wants to talk to me? in my room? This can't be good_. _I hope this is not about last weekend _... I pressed my hands to my waist, sliding them upwards to soothe my fluttering stomach.

I re-entered my room. He followed. I sat on the edge of my bed, dropping my jacket and backpack on the floor. He draped his overcoat on my desk chair by the window. He took a seat on the end edge of the bed, turning his body to face me. He examined my face, his eyes held mine.

"So." He said aloud. "Tell me about your day last Sunday, Edward."

_Shit. _ _Shit. _ _Shit! _ My breath caught. Nervous energy burned the surface of my skin. _What does he know?_

I needed an excuse to move before my body language betrayed my neurotic agitation. To deflect his attention, I turned my body so one leg now casually rested bent on the bed. The motion allowed me to naturally break eye contact with him without obvious avoidance. I nonchalantly shrugged, glancing up at him. "I dunno... I hung out at Bella's in the morning, then I drove her to meet a friend in the afternoon. I hunted a while. I picked her up later, after dark, when she called my cell. We went back to her house. When she fell asleep, I came home." I glanced up to monitor his expression.

My father looked at me intently. _"Do you think I have known you for over 90 years and I can't tell when you are avoiding me? You can't even look me in the eye right now! I deserve more credit than that, Edward. There's more, and you will tell me… now." _His eyes narrowed slightly_. _I sensed warning in the tone of his thoughts. "_Don't even think about lying to me, son."_

I recoiled inwardly - hopefully imperceptibly. "I'm telling you the truth, Carlisle. I don't know what you want to hear." I briefly raised my eyes to his, smiled slightly, then shifted my sitting position, and my gaze, again.

"_The 'friend' Bella visited is a member of the Quileute tribe, right?"_

He did not wait for a response before continuing aloud. "You and Bella met him somewhere outside the reservation, I assume? And then?"

The pressure behind my eyes increased as unwelcome tears fought to surface. He knew a lot more details than he should. Somehow. But what? From who? I looked down, blinked back the tears but I could not look up at him again. I combed the bedspread with my fingernails in feigned idleness.

"You hunted." he prompted.

"I hunted." I replied, much too softly.

"Where?" he lowered his voice to match my volume, but his softness was more ominous than comforting.

I answered cautiously. "Well, I left my car parked at the meeting place we decided on – you know - on La Push Road just before that new housing development on the edge of the reservation. So… I hunted traveling west towards Second Beach. It's a couple of miles to the coast from there."

"You stayed south of the reservation border." This was not a question.

"I left the forest at the north end of Second Beach, below the coves, below the rocks. Second Beach is National Forest, not reservation. I know where the border is, Carlisle."

"You're absolutely sure about that?" Carlisle tilted his head as he pressed his pursuit. Surely he could smell the flames of panic licking at the base of my brain.

"Yes," I chose my words carefully, "I know where the border is."

"_But you crossed it anyway."_

I turned my head to him sharply. He rose from the bed, shaking his head, looking down at me. His eyes were hard now. I had seen this look a few times, but rarely had it been turned on me.

Ice and fire enveloped me simultaneously, starting in my bowels, radiating up my spine to the top of my head, then down the backs of my legs. It was ME he was hunting, and he had me at bay. My body tensed as I instinctively shifted into defense mode. As irrational as flight would be, fight was not even an option.

_Calm down. Edward. Now!_ I pulled myself together enough to speak. "Carlisle…" I started.

"They know you were there," he said in a flat tone.

_This isn't happening._

"They assume you were spying on Bella – or worse."

"Watching out for her!" I exclaimed indignantly.

"Not!" he contradicted, raising his voice right back at me. "Indulging your jealousy is more like it!"

I covered my face with my hands. That stung. It was so completely true. Carlisle "saw" me. He paid attention. He knew me better than anyone. The tears I had successfully held in check so far, now spilled into my palms. I lowered my wet hands from my face.

Carlisle's anger was evident, but he controlled himself. As soon as I met his eyes, he turned away from me in irritation. He took a few steps toward the window, his hand to his forehead. "How do you think I feel having to hear this from Charlie, of all people?"

_Charlie? _I was at a loss….

"Charlie was at the hospital yesterday evening when I was covering in the E.R. We were chatting. He casually mentioned that Billy Black, Ephraim's son, said you were down in La Push on Sunday. Of course, Charlie has no idea that would be any kind of a _problem_," he added with an edge of sarcasm. "He and Billy are close, but not so close Chief Swan would know anything about Ephraim's treaty. The existence and terms of the treaty are not shared with anyone outside the council. No one outside the tribal blood except for us, and now Bella, knows about it. Charlie would never believe it even if he knew about it. Billy knew exactly what he was doing by slipping that casual piece of information to Charlie. He knew it would get back to you. "

I couldn't speak. I seemed to have lost the ability to move as well.

"What he probably didn't anticipate is that it got to me first."

_I am in such deep shit._ I was so distracted that day...by the thought of Bella with Jacob, in his house, on his bed... talking... his hand touching her shoulder, her bare arm... her cheek... and... what else? _I trust her, but for damn sure I don't trust him!_

"What you have done could have serious consequences not only for you, but for our whole family. You know this. I suspect this new generation does not have quite the tolerance their grandparents did. Sometimes I think they're just waiting for a chance to come down on us. Are you trying to provoke a fight? A war? Their tolerance of us is critical to our existence here, you know that!"

He approached me. "My God, Edward, you are the first to violate the bargain in sixty years! I-I don't even know what to think. I am shocked you would be capable of such a premeditated blunder. You were there when the treaty was signed! What you have done here is incomprehensible to me! You must realize the repercussions of this?"

A soft sob involuntarily travelled through my dry throat. I could not speak.

He stopped his tirade, sharply turning his face away from me. When he spoke again, his voice was too soft, and heavy with emotion. The tone of it made me shudder with guilt and grief.

"How could you betray us, Edward?" I shrank from him in shame. He looked at me again, but he was looking right through me, seeing something in his head, something he did not share with me – the block was still on. "I always thought, if it ever happened at all, it would be an accident, or that Emmett that would "go-off " and disrespect the wolves or the treaty in some way. I never dreamed it would be you."

Suddenly defensive, I found my voice. "Jacob violated it!" I said righteously. "That's how Bella knew about us in the first place!"

Carlisle stepped up to me in a blur of motion. The unexpected sound of the hard slap registered even before the burning sting flared on my left cheek. I fell back onto the bed. My hand flew to my face to nurse the knife-cut to my ego; embarrassment twisted the blade. Tears glazed my vision.

He spun away from me, holding his right hand with his left, as if it had acted independently and must be restrained.

I stared at him in shock. He had never done such a thing before, never lashed out in anger, never in all our time together had he lost control with me, even in my first months as a newborn vampire when I had next to no self control, or sense. Even punishments, when delivered, were done calmly, rationally, and never without communication and empathy. My body tensed as I prepared to move defensively if he came at me again. His thoughts were hidden, but his irritation was more than evident on his face.

He glanced back at me; he saw the fear and surprise in my expression. I could immediately tell by his face, if not his thoughts, he regretted what he had just done. He took a deep breath. _"I'm sorry, son. So sorry."_ Another minute passed in silence as he berated himself for losing control.

I gingerly massaged my jaw and cheek. _OK, I guess I deserved that. Of course he considered that comment "mouthing off," even though it was true! Jacob fed Bella tribal legends and made insinuations about us! That was uncalled for! To tell the truth though, I don't regret that she found out what I am, what we are. We wouldn't be in this relationship if she was still blissfully deceived like all the other humans. Should I be grateful to Jacob? What a disgusting idea! _Carlisle's voice intruded.

"Reality check, Edward." He said through clenched teeth, his voice low. He still struggled for control.

"What he told her she could have learned from the internet and from books, if she had the interest to look and the acumen to make the connections. She does. She did. Knowing Bella, an intelligent, insightful and God-knows persistent girl, it was only a matter of time before she pursued answers on her own and reached the correct conclusion. Our identity was betrayed because she fell in love with you and would stop at nothing to know you. Nothing short of an act of God could have prevented discovery! She decided she loved you before Jacob ever spoke to her about the legends. Her curiosity was incidental. Jacob's input was incidental. It was a technicality."

He turned to look at me again, but stayed on the other side of the room.

"The wolves are no menace to her. Jacob is no danger to her as a wolf, or to you as a rival. What is it going to take for you to recognize how much this girl is in love with you? The idea that she could possibly choose Jacob over you is ..." He threw his hands in the air in a gesture of exasperation, "almost comical."

_Great, I amuse you! _I thought bitterly._ I'm not a complete train wreck..._

"What's incomprehensible, son, is that you could doubt her! How many men find a partner as devoted to them as Bella is to you? Even if Jacob is in love with her, he is no threat to you because she has decided her heart is yours. Can't you see that? She has already made her decision. Don't insult her by disbelieving her. Don't insult her by stalking her."

_He's right. I don't deserve her. I'm a monster. There's no excuse for me. _I couldn't look at him. I just shook my head with self-loathing.

"Trespassing into the heart of their community as you did, they will naturally feel challenged. It wasn't an accident." I bowed my head. He started towards me at a measured pace.

"You purposely crossed the line, bearing ill will against one of their own. You had better hope they see you as seventeen - just an immature, irresponsible pain-in-the-ass, not your real age and a serious threat. Of course, you're both of those right now, aren't you? A hormonally-imbalanced adolescent walking around with all the powers of a mature vampire – and more - capable of calamitous damage to them. " He stood in front of me, focusing his accusations like weapons. I cowered.

"My God, Edward, grow UP! You've got to get control of your emotions and your impulses or you'll bring us all down with you – if you haven't already." He knelt in front of me, not letting me escape his eyes now. "And that includes Bella."

I flinched, and the tears overflowed.

"Now. I want the truth Edward. You owe me that – at the very least. I have to know every detail, because as coven leader, I will have to speak for you. I will have to defend your motivations and actions or apologize for them." He took a seat opposite me on the bed, pointedly eyeing me with expectation.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my left hand and massaged my jaw and neck with my right. I could tell my voice would not work right, but I had no choice. I took a breath and began.

"OK! God! OK...ok... I-I drove Bella to the border of the reservation at about 3pm, like I told you. He was waiting. She got out of my car and ran to hug him. He was smiling and laughing with her. He had his arm around her the whole time they were walking to his truck. I couldn't escape the loud, obnoxious images in his mind. I wanted to break a few of his bones right there. It would have been such a pleasure to hear them crack in my hands... He wanted to kiss her...He was imagining kissing her… God!... and more… He is disgusting!"

"And you never think those same things?" Carlisle questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Dad! That's not the point!" I objected.

"Oh, but it is…" he intoned, smiling to himself.

"Anyway, I was so frustrated. I was unwilling to let her go, but I couldn't hold her. She considers Jacob her best friend. She insists on seeing him. Not in town where I can keep watch over her, but in La Push, where I am forbidden to go. It isn't fair, you know? We can't enter their lands, but there's no restriction on them in reverse."

"Continue," Carlisle said sternly.

"OK. So I left the car and ran through the forest to the West, like I said before. But I didn't hunt. I couldn't concentrate. It was like my senses weren't working right." I looked up at him, my eyes starting to fill with tears again. "I just kept imagining him touching her. I should have hunted. I needed to. I know I have more trouble controlling myself when I'm thirsty."

"Uh huh," said Carlisle to himself. "What did you do, hike up First and La Push beaches and then to the town? Or did you follow the cliff at the edge of the forest?" _He talks like he's done that very thing, like he's been there himself. When? Before the treaty?_

"I ran in the patches of forest between the beach and Ocean Front Drive." I answered. "I stayed completely off the beach. When I got to the fish hatchery, I crossed Ocean Front Drive and travelled in the denser forest to the northeast of La Push. No one saw me."

"Edward. You were distracted. You were motivated by irrationality, by jealousy. Look what it does to you! That emotion obscured your judgment and all the heightened senses at your disposal. I'm sure one of the wolves spotted you. Surely you know they patrol their land? Surely you know our scent is as strong to them as their scent is to us? I would bet their sense of smell is even sharper than ours."

I shook my head, though not in disagreement. It was all so clear in hindsight. What the hell HAD I been thinking? Why had I not detected them, at least caught their thoughts if I couldn't see or hear them?

"Please continue, Edward."

"I got to the first few houses on the outside of the village. The stench of the wolves was everywhere, on the trees, on the buildings, mixed with the blood scents of the tribes people. I didn't know which house was Jacob's, so I started trying to pick up his scent. I listened to the thoughts and conversations of the people inside the houses. I saw very few people moving around outside. I heard someone, a male, say, 'I'll see Jacob this evening.' In his mind, he suddenly pictured the house, so I had a clue what to look for. I knew it was solitary, apart from the town, near the forest line."

"I kept on the outskirts until I reached the north end of the village but didn't see the house. Just as I had begun to head towards the beach following the tree line, I noticed a truck trail leading into the forest. I followed it until it opened up into about an acre of cleared land. There was the house, by itself in the clearing, with several other structures: a garage, an empty stable, a shed."

"The building closest to me was the garage. I pressed close to a tree about 20 yards into the forest as a kid suddenly sprinted out of the garage. He joined four more guys hanging out on the porch of the house at the far side of the land. The wind was blowing my direction, so I didn't think they would easily pick up my scent. The guys on the porch just kept lounging and horsing around so I knew they never detected me. The kid joined them on the porch and they all went inside the house."

"I could hear Jacob and Bella's voices very low, inside the garage. You know the wolves rarely wear shirts or shoes in their human form, even when it's really cold. I started wondering if Jacob was wearing a shirt in there with Bella. He was talking to her about the motorcycle he was working on. I crept closer to the clearing, concentrating on his thoughts. He was talking about the bike, but his thoughts were something else completely." I grimaced as I remembered. "Filthy mongrel."

"He was thinking about how soft her skin is, about ...," my voice failed me for a second as I closed my eyes, remembering the images in Jacob's head. "About touching her breasts under her shirt, about... taking off her shirt ..." My voice choked. I had to pause.

"I get the idea, Edward," Carlisle sighed. "Move on please."

I looked at him with eyes full of pain. "You don't know the half of it, Dad. This goes on all the time with him!"

"Oh come on, son. Men have those kinds of thoughts about women - even a 'perfect gentleman' – like you."

"I wouldn't!" I protested. Carlisle reached out to me, touching my face, caressing my cheek with his thumb. I allowed him to connect with me for a moment, then shook off his hand with irritation. He just smiled and took his seat again.

"I would think there's something wrong with you if you didn't have those thoughts, son," he said kindly. "You have the rare privilege of holding your girlfriend while she sleeps every night, remember? I don't think that is the typical human teenage boy's experience, do you? You have... certain advantages... that enable you to evade detection from her father. "

"She needs protection!" I countered.

"OK. Fine. You protect her. And in those long peaceful, boring hours before dawn, Edward, your mind inevitably wanders. She's sleeping... soft... warm... vulnerable beside you. The thoughts that play in your head don't hurt her, and they don't make you a bad man."

"If you are implying that, that...I'm taking advantage of her...! I-"

Carlisle stopped me. "Son, it's perfectly normal for a man to become aroused in that circumstance." Now I was squirming with embarrassment. "What matters is how you react when that happens. If you don't act on your arousal without her consent and participation, you haven't done anything wrong."

"Carlisle, I am NOT discussing this with you," I said hotly, crossing my arms. _Keep your smug advice to yourself, "Dad." I don't need your outdated input! Just SHUT-UP!_

_Of course he's right. Bella has no idea what goes through my head at times. I wouldn't want her to know. It's all I can do to restrain myself from touching her as she sleeps, letting my hands rest on the bare skin of her stomach, luxuriating in the soft whiteness of her skin, feeling the under curve of her breasts... Most of the time I force myself to keep my hands to myself, but I'm less successful in keeping my hands OFF myself... Bella, I'm so disgusting, how can you stand me! _

Carlisle shook his head slightly and smiled to himself. Although I resented being the object of his amusement, anything was better than being the object of his disappointment. "Alright then, let's get back to your story."

"Dad, I just want to say one more thing about Jacob. Sometimes I think he lets his thoughts become even more graphic, on purpose, just to torture me!"

"No doubt!" Carlisle responded, his expression at the same time sympathetic and cynical. "You open yourself up to such torture, Edward, just like you do with Emmett." He smiled, cocking one eyebrow at me.

"What?" I said defensively, hurt evident on my face. I paused. "Wait, are you saying Emmett has those thoughts about Bella too?" I started to rise from my seat on the bed in outrage.

"No, No, son! Calm down!" He pressed down on my shoulder, returning me to my seat. "What I'm saying is that Jacob and Emmett have found a very effective way to tease you. They know you eavesdrop on their thoughts, they don't like it, and so they use your talent against you!

"Oh." I said. "I see." I was quiet as I thought about all the terrible things I had heard in their minds.

"Why do you allow it? You know what you should do, but you don't do it. Isn't that right, Edward?"

"Yes sir." I sighed. "I should not purposely listen to their thoughts without permission, and if I happen to hear them accidentally, tune them out. It's hard to tune out and it's hard to forget when you already know what filth is going on in their heads, Dad."

"Yes, it's hard, but it's a technique, a defense you must acquire, or your special talent for reading minds becomes your torment, a weapon used against you, a weakness instead of an advantage."

This subject was nothing new. He had been trying to teach me this for 80 years. I was either so stupid or so stubborn I never was able to balance my gift effectively. The only thing new was yet another person skilled at using it against me - Jacob.

"Dad."

"Yes?"

"Can I just tell you something?"

"Of course, Edward. What is it?"

"One time when I picked up Bella at the border of the reservation, Jacob was angry. He argued that I did not deserve her and that he would never do to Bella what I had done to her by leaving her. He started to picture in his mind how Bella looked after I left Forks...when his brother Sam found her in the forest...where I..." my voice cracked, "where I left her... unprotected. It was almost more than I could bear, Dad. Bella so heartbroken that day that she wanted to die; Bella alone, facing the vampire Laurent in our mountain meadow; Bella flying off her motorcycle, then Jacob's hands wiping blood from her head; Bella's lips, blue with cold, struggling to breathe, when Jacob pulled her from the ocean at the base of the cliff."

Carlisle was quiet, seemingly sympathetic to the injury my psyche had sustained. Then he said softly, "Jacob may have done that to be cruel to you, and I'm sorry it made you suffer, but, I think it's good that you know those things. Maybe now you understand how much Bella suffered because of your decision to leave her... and..." He paused. His silence forced me look up at him. "How much I suffered the two times you left me." I turned my head away so he wouldn't see the shadow of hurt cross my face. _No matter how hard I try, I hurt the ones I love the most...never fails..._

He rose, came over to me and embraced me, enveloping my arms in his & burying his face in my shoulder. He kissed the side of my neck roughly. He held me tighter. "We learn, sweet boy, we do eventually learn. We have many lifetimes to get it right. That is one unique blessing of a cursed existence..." he pulled away, holding me by my shoulders at arms length. "We have a responsibility to get it right. God forgives us. I will always forgive you." He released me, hand trailing the length of my left arm to my hand affectionately, squeezing my hand reassuringly. He returned to his perch at the end of the bed. He looked at me and said quietly, intensely, "I hope you will always forgive me."

I looked at him strangely, sensing there was something more behind the words, feeling that same unrest behind his eyes I had noticed when I first saw him in the hallway this morning.

He sighed. "So, back to Jacob's garage."

I pulled my mind back to my narration. "So, when I heard Jacob's thoughts, I growled."

"Oh great." sighed Carlisle. "Did he hear you?"

"He heard something, I think, because there was a shift in his thoughts, an interruption, like a 2-way radio cutting out because the users are stepping on each other's transmissions. He stopped what he was doing to listen, but as I kept perfectly still and did not breathe, there was nothing more to hear except the usual sounds that surrounded his house at any other time. I noticed the wolf scent was very strong all of a sudden, and I wondered if he was preparing to shift to wolf form in response to me as a threat. I think he picked up my scent slightly because after a minute or two, he came out of the garage and looked around, sort of tasting the air. I tensed to run, but he shrugged, relaxed, chuckled to himself, then went back in. He was wearing a shirt, by the way." Carlisle rolled his eyes.

"I don't think they can hear or see as well when they are in human form. If they could, no doubt he would have zeroed right in on me. I was only 30 yards away. Like I said, the wind was in my favor, but still...Scent is their thing..." I smiled sardonically. "In more ways than one! That dog-stink doesn't bother Bella at all! She always comes back to me reeking!"

"Stay focused, Edward," Carlisle murmured.

"Ummmm...OK. So, he was casually speaking to Bella in the garage. They exited together and he led her into the house. As they walked, he glanced back towards the forest where I was. But there is no way he could have seen me. As soon as they were inside his house, I took off east through the forest."

Carlisle shook his head. He covered his mouth with his palm and looked at Edward thoughtfully.

"It was about 6:00 o'clock. I followed Quileute Road due east until it becomes James Road. That's the far Northeast corner of the border. I was off the Res before seven."

Carlisle nodded. "Go on."

"I ran south along the eastern border of the Res for a while. It's pretty difficult terrain; climbing slows me down. I listened for my phone. I wanted to get out of the hills so I had some reception. About 9:00 I reached the La Push Road borderline where I had left the car. There's a cell phone tower there. About 9:15 Bella called to say the mutt would have her at the transfer spot by ten.

"I drove a mile or so back toward Forks, and waited for 10:00 o'clock. I turned around, then raced back to the meeting place right at 10. Bella was already waiting. The dog stood against his motorcycle smirking, creating images in his mind of him kissing and holding Bella. Those were pretty PG-rated considering what he'd been fantasizing in the garage that afternoon." _He's lucky I don't tell her._ "His thoughts were pretty loud, if you know what I mean. I could tell he was manufacturing the images for my benefit. I knew he had not done those things with Bella." _In his dreams!_

"Is that all?"

"There was nothing in his thoughts about the afternoon, and believe me, if he thought I had been at his house that day, he would have picked a fight right there. He wasn't angry, just taunting, smug. Well... you know the rest. I took Bella home."

Carlisle stood, went to the window and looked out at the river. A minute or so of dead, uncomfortable silence passed.

"I'm sorry, Dad. It was the stupidest thing I've ever done, except deserting Bella last year. You're right. I was jealous. I went a little crazy, I guess. I'm... sorry."

He didn't turn. His only answer was "Hmmmmm..."

"Dad?" I ventured after a minute. _I have to know._ "Does Bella know I was there?"

He surfaced from his reverie. He answered distractedly. "Who knows, Edward? Charlie may have told her as well... It's likely... I would assume she knows... That's going to be your mess to deal with. She'll be upset with you, and you certainly deserve her anger." His voice became so low I could barely hear him. His eyes were far away as he gazed across the treetops. "Oh, she'll forgive you. She's forgiven you for much worse. That's the least of your problems right now..."

_If I had gone to school on time this morning, early enough to see her, is that what would have greeted me? An angry Bella? I need to talk to her, badly. Lunchtime. I'll be at school by lunchtime. I'd see her then. Thank God I've had some warning. I'll have to spread it on thick today, dazzle her, make sure she's too busy to complain..._

I fidgeted. "Dad, are you going to take me to school soon? It's OK, I can drive myself."

Carlisle turned to face me. There was a look of amazement on his face. "School? You think your day is just going to proceed as usual now? Drive? You will not be driving, that's for damn sure!" Apprehension caught and held my breath. When Carlisle cursed, we all knew he had been pushed too far. Just as earlier, when he had struck me, my guard went up.

"The first question I asked you this morning was 'What did you do last Sunday?'. What did you tell me?" He counted the statements on his fingers. "You hung out at Bella's. You drove her somewhere in the afternoon. You hunted. You picked her up... etcetera." Those were partial truths, Edward. When you are asked for a complete answer, partial truths are no better than lies."

"No!" I felt that his logic was faulty and unfair. I just couldn't think how to counter it. I couldn't think clearly. My brain was doing cartwheels.

"Edward, what is the consequence for lying in this family?"

A choking sob rose up through my chest. I clenched my teeth to keep it from escaping. I knew, of course. We all knew, though none of us had ever pushed consequences quite that far before. Not that we had never lied, but we had never been caught and punished for it. I closed my eyes. I couldn't bring myself to say the words out loud.

_Wait a minute! No way, Carlisle! _ I straightened my shoulders and looked straight at him. "But-." Sensing my defenses rising, his eyes narrowed in warning, but I continued in desperation. "I did not lie to you Carlisle. I told you the truth - all of it!"

"Yes." he nodded in confirmation. He paused, looked into my eyes, considering. "However." He shook his head with a finality I did not like. "Initially, you lied to me Edward." My brow creased as I stiffened. "You reversed that lie with the truth when I demanded it, but you chose to lie first. _You will not escape punishment for lying_. _Do you understand?"_

"Yes, sir," I whispered. The earlier nauseating flutter descended again upon my stomach. Obviously my body had known what was in store for me today – long before my brain caught up.


	2. 2 Trauma & Transcendence

**Trauma & Transcendence **

Cold dread moved from my bowels to my stomach and into my chest. I knew I had to make a decision. Now. Comply or resist.

Resistance was pointless...wasn't it? Carlisle was my maker, bottom line. No matter what roles we played for the eyes of others, the creation was completely subject to the will of the creator – _forever, Amen._ I fleetingly wondered if there was any possibility I could gain an upper hand should I choose to either run from or challenge Carlisle. _What am I thinking?_ Even if we were only human, Carlisle would have physically dominated me. He had height, weight and skill advantages. Though not exactly frail, I was of a much slimmer build, my musculature and height never having reached their adult potential, frozen as I was at 17 years of age and development. In addition, Carlisle had the mental and emotional maturity of an adult, free of the hormonal fluxes that tormented an adolescent boy. Decades of living with Carlisle had fully convinced me that I was no match for the older vampire. It would be futile to initiate a physical struggle or to try to talk him out of a decision.

As ever, I ultimately had only two options: Obedience to the coven leader or banishment from the coven. The former could occasionally be unpleasant, as now, but the advantages were legion, and security was almost guaranteed. The latter was unthinkable. It was suicide. _From the frying pan to the fire – trite but true._ Submitting to the will of someone who actually cared for you was far preferable to being slave to an insane dictator like Aro or leading an uncertain solitary existence having to defend oneself constantly.

My decision was – what a surprise! - to accept my coven leader's decision.

I would accept the punishment.

Carlisle took the two big pillows from the head of my bed. He stacked them on the edge of the bed beside me. He looked down at me with a combination of sadness and caring that seriously made me feel worse than if he'd been angry. He slowly unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt. When I broke away from his gaze, he held the side of my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb as he reached down to kiss the top of my head. _What do I have to lose at this point?_ I shoved his head away from me roughly. I knew it would hurt his feelings. I didn't care.

He walked over to where his overcoat hung on my chair. Reaching into the big outside pocket he withdrew a spiral of coiled leather. _The strap._

Of course I recognized that thing. I remembered my initial shock the first time I had seen it. I had never imagined Carlisle owned such a thing, much less used it – this perverse remnant of the unenlightened century when Carlisle was human. Emmett had shown it to me once in the cupboard of Carlisle's study. Carlisle had used it on Emmett for some offense that had pushed our father to the limits of his tolerance. Emmett, in his inimitable jokester way, had described the experience to me, relishing my facial expressions, delighted when I reacted with horror. Emmett wanted me to be impressed by his ghastly story about how much it had hurt, how the pain lasted long after the whipping was done, what a man he was to take it without complaint. _Liar. I'll bet Carlisle got some tears out of him. _I had always assumed he exaggerated just to scare me. Now I didn't feel so sure. After today, apparently I would no longer have the luxury of merely wondering.

He faced me. "Stand up, Edward."

Fear dealt me a gut punch. I didn't move. If I had stood at that moment, my knees would have given out. _Damn!_ _When he held me back from school today, he fully intended to use this! He had it with him the whole time! Pre-judged and convicted! I never had a chance! _I suddenly felt giddy, off-balance, I let out a short laugh.

Carlisle looked at me questioningly, confused by my non-compliance, confused by the laugh. "Is...there something you want to say?"

I smiled weakly. "When I was getting ready for school this morning, I never expected I would not be seeing Bella today..." I paused. When I spoke again, my voice was laced with bitterness. "I never imagined I'd be UNdressing before the morning was even over. That I would be bending over my bed like a little brat being beaten by my-"

"Edward!" He sharply stopped me. He continued tersely, "I've had enough of your drama. You know your behavior has been far worse than you're answering for." I just let the bitterness simmer in my expression. "Punishment can't really be such a surprise to you?"

_I hope you feel guilty, Carlisle. I HOPE you hurt._

"Shall we get on with it?"

_Shall we get on with it? _I mimicked him in my head.

"I told you to stand." I stood, but made no other move. I knew what I was supposed to do, but I felt I deserved to get away with a little defiance. _I'm not going to volunteer to strip and bend over for you, Carlisle. You'll have to tell me to do it._ I crossed my arms. His expression was calm, but his eyes glistened. My attitude saddened him. Only the wrinkling of his brow revealed his internal turmoil. _YOU'RE stressed, Carlisle? How the Hell do you think I feel_?

"Stop the games, Edward," He said in a level tone. He didn't need to raise his voice to turn my audacity to acquiescence. _Carlisle takes no shit_. "You know what I expect of you."

I felt my face contract and tense as I willed myself not to break down in front of him. I knew better than to cry. I knew better than to plead. I certainly knew better than to make any verbal protest. Those behaviors just irritated him. With Carlisle, even if you did have a valid argument, even if you were innocent (which I never completely was), once he had reached this point in his resolve, there was no deterring him. Better to just keep your mouth shut and take what you had coming to you, because if you pushed him, things definitely could get all kinds of worse. We boys had learned that the hard way.

With pointed reluctance, I proceeded to do as I was told. _Obedient Edward, the model Cullen son! Fuck that!_

I kicked off my shoes and shoved them under the bed. _OK, I screwed up – one time. Don't I get a break for all my good behavior?_ _No, of course not. And you don't care what I'm going through with Bella right now. It's all about you! Your embarrassment, Your reputation!_

I peeled off my socks, tossing them at the foot of the bed. _What about forgiveness for once, Mr. Minister's son? Where's your Christian mercy, Carlisle?_ _Haven't you heard that_ c_harity starts at home? _

I jerked off my flannel shirt, pausing to wipe my nose & eyes on the sleeves before sending it flying into the corner as well. _Damn hypocrite! You have no other solution except to beat us? It's the 21st century, Daddy dearest! This is some politically incorrect shit you're pulling here!_

I pulled my t-shirt over my head. _You say you love us? You want us to change? How about YOU changing? If the way your father treated you was wrong, how come you're repeating what he did? Your stupid rules are the same as his. They're medieval! Like you! Talk about not growing up! _I held the soft, familiar garment to my bare chest for a moment. It smelled like me - an intimate layer. I tried to quell my breathing, now accelerated by my agitation. When I finally let go of the tee, to drop it with the already discarded items, I felt my confidence go with it.

I turned my back to him. _I can't believe this is happening!_ I hesitated. _This is ridiculous! _I unbuttoned the waist of my jeans._ I'm not a child! _My right hand shook as I guided the zipper down._ Why do I obey him? I should put up a fight, but... _I slipped the jeans over my hips, and stepped on the bottom seams of the legs with my heels, one after the other, to hold the fabric taut as I lifted my legs out._ So not fair! _I threw the jeans, with some force, into the heap with the other garments_. Damn you, Carlisle! _

"That's enough," he said.

_You must think you are so generous, Carlisle! You left me my underwear this time!_ _Not like it will make any damn difference! _

He had been pacing slowly at the other end of the room, hands on hips, head bowed. He held the now uncoiled strap stretched between his fists, pressing it tightly against the shirt over his abdomen.

I looked with regret at the discarded pile of clothes. I had freshly put them on two hours ago. I made an exaggerated gesture with upraised palms as if to say, 'What next?' He did not react except to stop pacing, stand legs apart, his whole focus on me as I resigned myself to his unspoken direction.

I lowered myself down onto the pillows he had placed, bracing my weight on my elbows, sinking into the bed slightly. My hips, thus elevated, prominently presented my buttocks and thighs for the cruel whims of the strap. I reached inside my boxers, cupping my genitals, positioning them higher, safely underneath my hips, protected from the rain of torment I knew would soon engulf my backside. This I remembered as advice from Emmett when he assured me I would someday have an encounter with the strap.

I realized my upper arms were shaking. Though I tried to be still, my legs twitched nervously down to the tips of my toes touching the floor. Emotions charged through me as I reluctantly surrendered to Carlisle's will. I wished I could avoid the images in his head; it made me anxious to see myself so vulnerable. I held my breath for a moment to stop it from racing. My eyes were already wet and stinging. I dipped my forehead to rest on the surface of the bed, not wanting him to see the wreck my face was becoming.

Carlisle approached me, assessing my prostrate and pitiful form. He stood close to my left side, his own left leg pressing against my thinly-clothed hip. My fingers tensed around handfuls of coverlet. I jumped at his touch as he rested his left hand gently on my bare lower back. I shuddered as he rested the cool, heavy leather across the backs of my thighs. My skin crawled knowing it was touching me, like a cool viper, pregnant with potential harm, resting on my unprotected skin.

This was always the moment he lectured, when I was vulnerable and scared, bent over naked in anticipation of becoming the wretched, whimpering penitent he would soon make of me. I guess he believed I listened better from such a perspective. Maybe he was right. I fought to keep my emotions in check as he spoke.

"Edward, you are being punished for lying. Is that clear to you?"

I nodded, pressing my forehead into the bedspread with a groan.

"Edward, I expect you to respond verbally."

"Yes," I said miserably, my voice muffled. "I know."

"You know how I value integrity. If you are honest with me, you may still be punished, but I will go much easier on you. But when you try to deceive me, I consider that betrayal to be one of the most destructive choices you can make for yourself and for our family."

My stomach roiled. I hated Carlisle's lectures. I hated that he could make me feel such shame. His voice lost volume, but became weighted with emotion.

"You know how special you are to me. As much as I try to treat every member of this family equally, I always seem to err in your advantage. The others see it, and though they sometimes resent it, I think for the most part they accept it. You are my cherished "firstborn" male child. You enjoy higher privilege, but it is paired with deeper responsibility. I have seen that the preference you enjoy sometimes leads you to assume you have the right to act out - in ways the others would never dare. You know I would prefer to just talk to you, forgive you, and forget any of this ever happened. But, Edward, son...what you have done this time, makes that impossible."

"You may think my decision to use the strap is harsh, and admittedly it is, but let me remind you that you were fully aware of this consequence when you opted for deceit."

"Right now, I am dealing with the lying, Edward. If you feel you are being punished for more than that – so be it. As for your violation of the Quileute treaty – I just don't know yet. The whole family will need to decide what course to take. We will meet to discuss this tonight. We will make a decision as a family. However, Edward, you will not be part of making that decision. You will remain in your room tonight. I know you will hear what is said, and, you have permission to listen. It will be "your business", after all. It is your fate they will be deciding. Your presence will not be required at the family meeting, and your vote does not count where your punishment is concerned."

_Don't cry, damn it!_ I took a moment to swallow the constriction in my throat before I spoke. I couldn't let him hear my voice shake. I lifted my head. "You're planning to punish me twice?"

"Some solution must be found to prevent you from repeating this behavior in future. If the family consensus is that a whipping will be the most effective deterrent, then that is what you will receive - in the presence of the family if need be."

I cringed. I buried my forehead in the bedspread. To be whipped in front of my brothers, sisters and mother _... that's unnecessary, and he knows it._ My brothers, Rose and I had all received our share of Carlisle's corporal punishments, in the relative privacy of Carlisle's office or our rooms. Most of the time, Carlisle would send uninvolved parties out of the house temporarily - but not always. _No, not always._ There had been a few occasions when Carlisle reserved the privilege of privacy to intensify the severity of the punishment. He believed such humiliation was a cure for pride and disrespect. Jasper, Emmett and Rose weren't really phased by this, but for me - and Carlisle knew this well - I would rather be whipped bare in private than suffer the humiliation of an audience.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was just my brothers. Emmett and Jasper, having been in that position numerous times, would be sympathetic, though Jazz would never question Carlisle's authority, and Emmett would try to push my buttons with rude thoughts. The women were the problem for me.

Esme…it broke her heart for any of us to be physically punished, no matter what we had done. _Alice... well, she'd see it all beforehand anyway, but for her to have to be in the room while it's happening? That would be harsh – for her and for me. _Rose... she hated to see her Emmett in pain, but she would certainly gloat when it was me suffering under Carlisle's hand. I would never hear the end of her taunting, especially if I cried. _And, damn it, I always cry._

"Is there anything you'd like to say, son?" A trace of sympathy crept into his tone, but it was underscored with grief.

_He means to hurt me, and he hates himself for it_. _I have such hateful thoughts against him when he pulls rank on me. What a spoiled brat I really am._ _I constantly disregard his feelings but expect him to honor mine._ _Sometimes I purposely disrespect him, but he is still always fair with me._ _I get away with so much in this "family" ... only because he loves me. Even now he can still call me "son." He is a better person than I._

"Wait!" I breathed. "I ... I know I lied to you Carlisle. I did. I didn't want you to be disappointed in me ... and I ended up just making it worse. Now I've damaged your trust. I'm sorry."

His silence was punishing. He offered no words to comfort me, not even a thought to reassure me. The gap between us suddenly left me desolate. I had heard him define Hell as 'separation from God.' I was beginning to understand his concept. To feel this separate from a being that loved you so faithfully and unselfishly truly was Hell.

"_It's time to begin now, Edward."_

Pressing his left hand down firmly on my lower back, he raised the doubled strap. He hesitated, and a whimper escaped my chest. Suddenly, he brought the tough leather down with a swift, precise motion onto my cotton-clothed flank. Breath deserted me, and in that vacuum, I bucked as the sharp crack of leather on unyielding flesh echoed through the uncarpeted room. My toes extended, pressing hard against the floor, the muscles in my legs writhing in taut bas-relief under my skin.

Nothing Emmett had told me could have prepared me for the lacerating agony Carlisle had just delivered on the first blow. I had a whole new respect for my brave buffoon of a brother.

I breathed, but the sharp intake of air forced the tension from my legs, and they suddenly they failed to support me. I gripped the bedspread with both fists to keep from collapsing to the floor.

Carlisle waited, allowing the pain to blossom, listening to my soft, desperate whimpering, muffled by the cloth below my face. I lifted my face, turning back to look at him incredulously as fresh venom spilled from me to stain the gold coverlet. He kept his face impassive, but he opened his mind to me very slightly. "_You can do this without all the crying and carrying on, Edward. I know you can."_

He positioned his arm to strike again. The protest slipped from my lips before I could stop it. "No!" I gasped, as my body tensed in anticipation. _"Control your reactions, son."_ The next blow, harder than the first, landed on the tender bare flesh of my thighs. The tight rein I attempted to hold on myself turned my cry into a convulsive moan. I twisted off the pillows, throwing my hands back to protect and soothe the newly discovered country of pain across the back of my legs.

Carlisle never allowed this instinctual defense. He seated himself beside me as I groaned face-down on the bed. He stilled my frantic hands with his strong, calm ones. His voice was low, compassionate. At least, I think he was speaking aloud. Maybe I was reading his mind, I couldn't tell. Intense pain tends to blur the lines of reality. He reached up to stroke my hair with one hand, squeezed my shoulder with the other. "Edward, you need to listen now." He said softly over my ragged breathing. "You have to trust me on this. This may sound impossible, but I want you to try to bear the pain without making these sounds or writhing like a child. You must find the strength to intercept and absorb the pain. Are you hearing me?"

I turned to Carlisle in utter disbelief from where I lay. "That's easy for you to say! Y-You don't know what it feels like!" I accused. "You tell me to... to make no sound," my breath hitched, "and- and not to move? Could you do that? No!"

Carlisle's eyes became clouded as he crossed into memory for a brief moment. "Oh, but I have, dear boy. I have felt much, much more, inflicted by a man inured to my cries and my pleading; a man who did not love me as I love you, a man who seemed to enjoy finding new ways to humiliate me every day for fear of the Devil he imagined." His mental guard slipped just enough for me to catch nightmarish visual and emotional flashes of his human childhood.

Carlisle reached down to grasp my arms gently. "Come on, son. We still have a ways to go." I recoiled from his reach, but there was nowhere to escape. I allowed him to lift me so my feet again touched the floor and my poor behind was once again perched on the high pillows.

"D-Did you c-cry?" I stuttered. "Didn't you cry when he whipped you?"

"When I was younger, yes. But by the time I reached your age I had learned to be silent, to hold my reactions inside. When I did not react, he lost interest much sooner, as bullies do, and the beating might end much sooner, without so much ... damage."

I shivered at the images in his head, and with pity for myself. Carlisle bent down, laid his cheek on my bare back, stilling my shaking shoulder blades with gentle hands, caressing with his thumbs the muscles on either side of my spine.

"You are loved, son. I was not," he mused wistfully. "Accept the pain instead of shying away from it. This will help you to cope. Let your mind control what your body feels, not the other way around."

He sighed. He straightened himself to a standing position, taking up the strap again. "We shall continue now, Edward."

I knew better than to ask how long he would go on. Carlisle wasn't done until he was done. He had his own internal timer that told him the lesson had been learned and the student had reached the point beyond which teaching ended and punishment began. Carlisle tended to allow a taste of punishment, but never took it too far to become abusive.

A sob escaped me as I steeled myself for the next blow. In the space of a breath, I heard the sound of air being split before pain seared the under side of my buttocks. I heard a shriek, then realized it was my own. My skin felt cauterized without courtesy of anesthetic, making it clear that no plan or wisdom could save me from this visceral consequence that brought my sin into clear focus and resolution.

The next blow followed almost immediately... then another...and another. Methodical and focused, he laid a burning swath on the surface of my skin from knees to waist, unexposed or bare. I couldn't count. I couldn't catch enough breath to even cry out again. My diaphragm fluttered in staccato spasms, as if I was hyperventilating. Carlisle was no longer allowing recovery time or any other concession to my novitiate status. There was no restraint evident now in the force behind his strokes.

Though, rationally, I knew I would survive, some primal self-preservation instinct was triggered. My body knew what to do even if I did not. I focused wholly on the pain. I felt fully what had already been dealt. I sought out the sensation of each subsequent strike. I embraced the pain, and then ... I'm not sure when I crossed the line... but I became aware of a change. Though the intensity was in no way diminished, I was able to maintain clear thought through the cacophony of my nerve endings. I was not crying now, as if a merciful blade had severed my tear ducts. Somehow, my rapt attention to the pain transcended it, made it bearable; I felt it, yet was able to remove myself from it. Humans would call this shock, but we no longer have those human endorphins, those chemical reactions to stress. My mind was separating from my body.

I could not help the instinctual flinch that passed through my cold frame like a shock wave each time the punishing strap made contact, but it was as if I was observing it rather than experiencing it. To add to the disorientation, I saw myself through Carlisle's mind, my broken body before him across the bed.

Carlisle stopped, listening to my breathing, the now subtle whimpers. I had not cried out or pleaded throughout the ordeal. What was left of my conscious thought was focused on the surreal sound of my irregular breaths in my head and the sensation of the fabric between my fingers.

"Edward," Carlisle murmured. My eyes were closed tightly. I could hear his thoughts clearly now. "_He's dissociating. God help him. If the boy doesn't achieve control of his emotional responses, he will always be humiliated by others. It's my responsibility to teach him how to survive emotionally as well as physically."_

"Edward," Carlisle said again, laying his hand on the back of my thigh. I gasped, pulling back into the harshness of full, present consciousness, full sensory perception. My eyes flew open. I turned my head gingerly towards him, but my eyes would not focus. The pain I had temporarily distanced now settled with a vengeance upon my back and lower limbs like a searing blanket.

Though the haze of my suffering, I was conscious of his presence. I heard the strap drop onto the floor. I felt him pull the lower pillow out from under me, placing it near my head. I felt his hands on my hips, felt myself lifted gently, and the other pillow slipped away. I could neither resist nor assist him. I felt the shift in weight on the bed as Carlisle laid down close beside me. I remained face down as he rested his cheek on my left shoulder blade, and reached across my back to hold me. I could sense his breathing change as he held me tighter. I felt wetness on my back; it dimly occurred to me it might be his tears.


	3. 3 Accusations & Negotiations

**Accusations and Negotiations **

(Carlisle's POV)

_What a monster I must seem to him right now. What loathsome guardian would harm his charge this way? What a cruel father would wound and break his beloved son as I have done?_

Edward groaned. He had not moved since the whipping had ended. He had not acknowledged my touch. The muscles of his back suddenly came to life beneath his skin, beneath my cheek. I lifted my head. Where my face had been, his pale, translucent skin was wet with the venom that served as my tears. I had not even realized I was crying. Now he moved his legs to shift position. Low growls and groans, rumbled within his chest at every attempt. He managed to curl up onto his side on the bed, his back to me. I leaned away from him, wiping my eyes with the inside collar of my shirt. As I sat on the bed beside him, not touching him, his shoulders started to shake as he finally gave in to the sobs he had held back - at my request.

_I do this because I do care, Edward...I care about this fragile unit we euphemistically call a family. It doesn't matter where we live or what we live in. The souls we gather together are our home._

I reached out to him, hesitantly, touching his hip, but he responded not at all, except to curl tighter into himself and farther away from me. _Just let him be, Carlisle. _In the 80 plus years we had been together, he had always cried easily. I cherished his tender heart and sensitive nature, but he was just too fragile, his emotions too near the surface. He didn't need words right now, even of comfort. He just needed to be left alone do what came naturally to him. I would not leave him because I was unsympathetic, but out of respect and consideration for him. I would come up to check on him later. I kept my eyes on him as I quietly gathered the overcoat on the chair and the strap on the floor. I slipped through the door into the hallway, and pulled it gently shut.

o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o

_Got to refocus, disengage my mind from Edward for a while. Got to get control of my emotions. Got to pull my thoughts together, prepare my most diplomatic stance, make contact with the Council._

I made my way downstairs, allowing my surroundings to distract me. _This marvelous house,_ I thought. My talented wife had designed it around the personalities and needs of her family. Edward's bedroom had outside walls of glass and an unparalleled view of the peaceful river. He was directly above Rosalie and Emmett's room. We called it the "honeymoon suite," with triple soundproofed walls to give them privacy, but more to give the rest of us respite from the sounds of their rambunctious lovemaking. Alice and Jasper's suite was half closet – for Alice's ever-expanding wardrobe and luxurious dressing room. Jasper's needs were few - a Playstation and proximity to Alice his only requirements – and the former he could forego if necessary. Esme and I had our third floor bedroom suite, with northern exposure for her orchids. In addition, she had a design office just adjacent to my study. This house was conceived to be open and bright, where we could fully enjoy the sunlight we necessarily avoided in the world outside.

My joy and refuge was my study, the dimmest room in the house. I ran my gaze along the teak walls lined with almost 300 years of my most treasured books as I walked in cool semi-darkness towards the center of the room. I put both hands on my "old" mahogany desk. _But Esme, I love this desk!_ My hand brushed the back of the inviting leather sofa with its companion reading lamp. The tall, west-facing, stained glass windows illuminated the room adequately in the afternoon, but in the morning the room was swathed in shadow. With a turn of the Tiffany lamp's old-fashioned key switch, warm yellow light awakened the slumbering sanctuary. In here I could focus. I could closet myself away from the over-stimulating 21st century I was forced to deal with every day. My family gave me my space in here. They always knocked, and rarely entered if I was not present.

I went to the cupboard, putting away the items I was carrying. I went to the sofa, collapsing wearily, stretching out my legs on the seat. I reached into my pocket for my cell, retrieved a number, then positioned the table phone on my lap. The reception was abominable out here, and even worse on the reservation. I needed maximum clarity of communication right now. I was dreading this call, but by this evening I would have to let my family members know what had happened and where we stood. As circuitous as the route had been, from careful Billy to clueless Charlie to me, a clear message had been sent. _I understand - the ball is now in my court._

I dialed. I took a deep breath in preparation to speak. It rang...and rang...and rang. Ten. My focus was slipping. Twenty. _OK, well, this is pointless...I'll try again later... _Twenty-three. A young boy answered, out of breath from running. "Yeah?" he said in a happy, sing-song-y voice.

"May I speak to Chief Black please?"

o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o

Flying along the modern marvel of immaculate black asphalt, winding through forests and hills, the tension locked into my neck and shoulders began to dissipate. I kept the Mercedes humming about 20 mph above the speed limit on the straight-aways. La Push Road, westbound from the 101, was peaceful, the drive gorgeous, just as I remembered it. It had been an exceedingly long time since I had traveled this part of it - inside the reservation. The last car that had carried me onto the reservation was now considered "vintage." The last time I saw this road, it was nothing more than hardened dirt.

I had approached various parts of the reservation border on foot while hunting. Though the treaty specified we could hunt right up to the border, I made sure I stayed as well away from it as I could, and cautioned the family to do so as well. I know Emmett's confrontational nature ached to test those limits, but thankfully, he remained obedient to our family's pact. The wolves would know if one of us had compromised the line, their ability to pick up a scent exceeded ours. Even in their human forms, I understood the traditions of the tribe produced excellent trackers, male and female alike.

Maybe I could manipulate this situation to everyone's advantage. _No harm has really been done, right? Nothing has been taken or destroyed. No one is injured._ Perhaps this communication between our clans, though born from betrayal of trust, would be a good thing in the end. _Do what you do best, Carlisle!_ Though I had proved pretty skilled at peacemaking in the past, I was NOT looking forward to this.

I pressed the accelerator harder through a long straight corridor of pines. As the engine revved higher, the giants were no longer single trees along the roadside, but a liquid, verdant blur through the side windows. The forest was a presence hovering over the isolated road, the huge ancients graciously allowing my temporal passage. I was lulled by the soft machine noise and my attention again turned inward.

_What an incomprehensible hold this unremarkable human girl had over Edward to cause him to disregard so many years of caution and responsibility. _ I had long ago buried my hope that he would ever find a companion. I had reasoned that perhaps it just wasn't in his nature to let another being get so close to him. I had hypothesized that he hated his existence, and our kind, so virulently he would never accept a mate. I had been blindsided by the advent of Bella. It had never occurred to me he might consider a human. _How stupid is that, Carlisle? Didn't you fall for Esme long before you changed her?_ I had grossly underestimated how powerfully a relationship would affect him when it finally came along. My constant, pragmatic, dependable, wise and obedient "son" had suddenly become fickle, impractical, unpredictable, foolish and rebellious.

My thoughts had hypnotized me, had taken me far away from the road in front of me. A sudden break in the trees flooded the car with blinding sunlight. Startled, I snapped my mind back into focus. _Ha! What do you know! It just happened to me!_ "_Dissociation – disruption of conscious thought and functioning – usually autonomous, unanticipated." _ I had just experienced the most common occurrence of that odd mental state. I had cultivated it to help me survive pain as a youth under the punitive tyranny my father imposed. This was the state Edward had suddenly entered this morning as a response to his physical and emotional trauma.

I partitioned my mind, putting this morning's events into a back room and closing the door. I didn't mean to be unfeeling, but I couldn't dwell on Edward's personal predicament right now. I had a more serious matter to attend to.

The forest canopy closed over me again, and in its shadow my mind again immersed itself in spirals of internal dialog.

_God knows I understand your need and your predicament, son_. _How many years did I hide the thing I feared the most, especially from myself? __Then, I found you; I claimed you as my own. I didn't exactly consult you first, did I? I literally ripped away your natural existence with my teeth and hands. I was finally able give a name to the despair that had long consumed me. Loneliness. So simple, but so insidious, so crippling. At the time I was nobly convinced I was saving you. The selfless, crusading physician only wished to stop your suffering and to prevent your inevitable death. In accomplishing that goal, I stole your right to die. What good had it been to save you, only to subject you to eighty years of physical and emotional alienation, essentially loneliness, the very state that had tortured me for so long?_ _Could I have acted any more selfishly_? _Your existence assuaged my suffering, but I handed you pain eternal. __Who had saved who?_

Edward had been my first true companion. I had chosen him, and grew to fiercely love him. The phrase "unconditional love" came off as such a trite buzz-phrase these days, but how else to express such an irrevocable level of commitment? "Eternal" was not just a far-fetched romantic concept in our world. It was the reality. I could see now, he had represented the part of myself I had to reconcile before I could find my mate, my Esme. Certainly I had had other "companions" in the 200 plus years since my change, but never was my still and starving heart so fed until I entered the presence of this astonishingly intelligent and arrestingly beautiful human boy languishing under my professional care in that dismal Chicago hospital.

_He loves me, too. Of that I am positive. Thank you for loving me, Edward._ Part of the uncharted territory that came with his relationship with Bella was that I no longer received the most devoted part of his attention. Now, Bella received many of the confidences that Edward had previously shared with me. I didn't resent this, but it definitely was a readjustment. I could no longer monitor his mood swings like I used to because there was less intimate communication between us.

_I know he respects me, and it is not a respect born of or dependent upon fear. Certainly he acknowledges my superiority over him as his creator, but instead of resenting that fact, I sense he would hand his life to me without a question if I asked for it. It is indeed humbling. _

_I wonder if he knows how much I respect him as well? Does he realize I have often been in awe of his self-control compared to so many others of our kind? But self-control is what he lost when he trespassed into Quileute land last Sunday. That mistake could open a whole new chapter in our lives._

_Please let it work out somehow. Please let it not be irreparable for Edward or for the rest of us...Please..._my internal mantra turned wordless but no less supplicating as the road turned due west.

By the saline scent and heavier pressure of air, I knew I had finally reached the ocean, though I could not see it. I slowed as forest cleared to open meadow on both sides of the highway. A few scattered structures appeared.

LA PUSH

Population 342

_A traffic light? Are you kidding me? Not another vehicle in sight for miles!_ I paused at the light, then turned right, north, on Ocean Front Drive. _It HAS been a long time, Carlisle!_

I had had some contact with Quileute tribe members at the hospital, however, the reservation residents had a clinic in La Push run by capable doctor Viravathana – "Dr. V" they called her. Most people couldn't spell, much less pronounce, her full name. She covered most of the bases from births to broken legs, and was well-liked by those she served. What emergencies the clinic couldn't handle could be emergency transported, or even airlifted, to Forks Community. Dr. V had a small staff of five, the most well-known of which was Kim Conneller, a trained nurse and a tribe member herself. She had been a fixture there since the clinic opened 40-some years ago.

Edward's earlier narration played in my head. My eyes scanned the western edge of the road, imagining him running at top speed through the strip of forest that flanked the road. I imagined he ran a few dozen yards away from and parallel to the road itself - a blur, a hallucination, merely a subliminal image to any human accidentally catching some fleeting movement. But to the swift wolves he would be visible...they were nearly as fast as we.

I envisioned two wolves flanking my boy through the forest, keeping their distance, keeping downwind. I imagined him so enflamed in his obsessive envy he did not see them, did not even think to look for the infamous Quileute guardians. What was even more puzzling is that he had not read their minds. There had never been a wolf mind Edward could not plunder. Had they learned to block their thoughts from him? If so, was it the skill of each wolf separately, or accomplished within the pack mind?

_There's the hatchery_. Here he had crossed to the west side of the road where the forest was denser.

I inhaled deeply. There it was, that peculiar scent. God, yes, it came from every direction just as he had described. It dominated every other scent, the pines, the sea, the stink of warm asphalt... and as I approached the town, that ambrosial scent of the blood of the living. The road wrapped around the east end of the village. I saw parked vehicles here and there by the houses, but there were no other vehicles running on the streets. I saw little movement in the somnolent town – a few children, a few pedestrians down by the marina.

I returned to the verbal map Edward had given me this morning. "The north end of the village," he had said, and "I noticed a truck trail leading into the forest." Finally, I spotted it. You almost had to know it was there in order to see it. I left the pavement and rolled the Mercedes wheels gently into the ruts that led from bright meadow to dim narrow trail.

_Almost there._ My stomach knotted. My head ached. I massaged my forehead. I eased the car slowly through the dim, narrow passage.

I could see the light from the clearing approaching. Now, where had he been hiding? "The building closest to me was the garage," Edward had said.

_There, that must be the garage._ Probably a stable originally, the wooden building sat not 30 yards from the tree line. If Edward had been 20 yards into the trees... _What the HELL were you thinking, boy! OK, you were downwind, but SO close! Was that bravery or sheer recklessness?_

_There's the house._ _Billy and Jacob's house. Father and son. The Chief and his successor. Hmmm. I don't often think of them from that perspective... _ _or of Edward and me from that perspective... _

OK. This is going to work out. Be calm. Be patient. Be positive. It's s_how time, Carlisle_!

o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o

The sun made a passing appearance through the coastal clouds as I clicked the Mercedes door shut. Instinctually, I almost sprinted for the shade of the porch, but stopped myself when I remembered - I didn't have to hide here. They knew who I was, and why I was here. The irony... the only places I didn't have to worry about discovery were my own home ... and the home of my "enemy."

_Enemy? Come on. No. Certainly not. I'd rather think of us as two different cultures learning to co-exist. How do "they" think of "us" after all these years? Time to find out._

The wooden screen was closed but the front door was ajar as I stepped into the uneven surface of the natural-rock porch. The interior was dark, the only sound the low rumblings of a sports crowd on the television. I cleared my throat. The TV crowd roared, and the dark room came to startling life with enthusiastic male voices. I was taken slightly aback. The living room must be full of people. For a moment I felt uncomfortably outnumbered, suddenly challenged by the home team.

I knocked on the screen door, and I could now see the room was indeed full. "Chief Black?" I called out. The room fell quiet.

"Yes!' came the rich, gravelly voice I recognized from our phone conversation that morning. "Dr. Cullen?"

The door swung fully open and through the screen I could see Billy Black, seated in a wheelchair in front of the small TV, a beer in his hand, and at least ten teenage-to-twenty boys around the room, lounging on the arm chairs and sofa. They all looked so similar - large muscled frames, black hair, black eyes, deeply tanned skin. Billy handed the beer to one of the boys, and rolled the chair towards the door with both hands, smiling. All eyes were on me, but Billy's smile was not reflected in them.

"Come in, Dr. Cullen," he said motioning to the screen door he could not reach from his seated position. "Seth?" One of the smaller boys leapt to his feet, pushing the screen open, then standing aside to allow me to pass. There was animation in the boy's face, not quite a smile, but curiosity and openness.

"Please, sir." He said. The lightness and lilt in his voice identified him as the "child" who had answered the phone this morning.

I entered, immediately noting a concentration of that potent wolf scent that pervaded the village. I outstretched my hand towards Billy. Billy reached out in response, but hesitated, glancing at my hand. He caught himself, then completed the movement, grasping my pale, groomed hand firmly with his dark, coarse sunburned one.

"Cold?" I offered, cocking one eyebrow and smiling.

"Uh...yeah...a bit," he said wryly, cracking a smile. I could feel the instinctual repulsion from him and the others, though Billy managed to conceal it best.

Billy had no contact with my kind on a regular basis. We had met two years ago when my family moved back to Forks after 60 years of absence. We had not only returned as permanent residents, but had added two to our number – Alice and Jasper. Billy had not been born when we last resided in Hoquiam, outside Forks. His father Ephraim had been a young chief and the treaty we established between us had functioned well for both sides. Of course Billy knew the history of the agreement, but as coven leader I knew I owed Ephraim's son and successor the courtesy of a reintroduction and a reinstatement of the terms. _This is only the second time Billy has met me. Of course he is uncomfortable. Cut him some slack!_

I, on the other hand, interacted with humans every day. I had to touch my patients – rather intimately sometimes - mostly with sterile gloves as a buffer, but sometimes the delicacy of the procedure required my hands to be bare. I joked about the peculiar temperature of my hands –"cold hands warm heart," that sort of thing – or blamed the "clamminess" on having to wash my hands all day long. There was also the paleness of my skin and my unusual eye color to consider. I had my ways of distracting them. My patients left me primarily remembering they were handled gently, treated respectfully, and listened to patiently.

I eased into the crowded living room, my expression neutral but friendly – my "professional" face. Billy looked around the room. He grabbed the TV remote and silenced the game.

"OK guys! Out!" he ordered. "Game over! We need some privacy." He turned to one kid in particular, quite strikingly good-looking and outrageously tall, hunched down on the sofa wearing a plaintive scowl. "You too, Jacob."

The boys groaned, then slowly started to extract themselves from their comfy perches on the furniture. I moved aside as they filed out the front door. I glanced at Jacob as he passed_. So this is Edward's rival._ He caught my glance, responding with an undisguised glare behind narrowed eyes. He sniffed and wrinkled his nose with disgust. His handsome lips bore an arrogant sneer, and as he passed me he muttered some epithet under his breath - out of his father's hearing. _Edward has better manners,_ I thought.

The boys tumbled into the yard, laughing, talking, pushing each other off the porch. Jacob and another young man lingered on the porch. The other one was as large as Jacob, and seemed more mature.

"Why don't all of you go over to the Clearwater's for a bit?" Billy called out to the group. He grinned. "I'm sure Leah misses you all!" A volley of laughter and muttered rudeness rose from the boys as they took off across the clearing.

The older boy on the porch shouted towards one of them, "Cool it Embry! I mean it! Leah doesn't deserve that!"

"What about me and Sam?" Jacob said through the screen door., his hands in his pockets, his body tense. "Don't you want...some of us here with you?"

"You and Sam can hang out over in the garage." Billy said firmly. "But go now. I want to talk to Dr. Cullen alone."

Jacob and Sam turned, leapt from the porch and disappeared around the building.

We were alone.

"Please Dr. Cullen, sit down." Billy wheeled himself to face the armchair. He picked up his beer where the boy had left it, took a sip, looked at the can in disgust, and set it back down. "Warm," he said to himself.

"Call me Carlisle. Please." I said as I settled in the armchair. "How may I address you, Chief Black?"

Billy sighed. "Billy's fine." He looked up at Carlisle apologetically. "Jacob doesn't trust you. None of them do. Just so you know, Jacob and Sam, they're... just around back."

"I understand," I responded thoughtfully. "You mean, they've shifted and they're guarding us ... in their wolf forms."

"Yeah. That's it." He met my eyes hesitantly. It was clear he wasn't used to being so open on this subject with outsiders. Most of the Quileutes themselves did not know the truth behind the wolves. As far as most were concerned, it was just colorful legend. Only the Chief and the inner circle, the Council, knew the reality. "They're really worked up right now, as you might expect."

"Yes, well, I can't blame them." I replied. "We would be alarmed if the shoe were on the other foot."

"They're young, Carlisle. They overreact. It's their age. It's the reoccurrence of the old legends. And there are so many of them now... it's curious... they feel their increased numbers are a natural response to a real threat." He looked at me intently. "They ARE overreacting, aren't they? There is no reason for them to REALLY be on the defensive...is there? Is your son –"

"Edward."

"Edward... Is he a threat to Jacob – or any of us?"

"No Billy. He is no threat. He just acted on impulse, as teenage boys do, that's all." I pictured him at home as I had last seen him, curled up on his bed, weeping. "He acted on jealousy over Bella Swan. It was a serious lapse in judgment."

"Yes. Chief Swan's daughter. Jacob is pretty crazy about her. He has known Bella since... well, since he was born. They used to be playmates when they were children, whenever she would visit her father in Forks in the summer."

"Bella and Edward are dating now. That must upset Jacob if he is so emotionally invested." I added gently.

Billy looked at me pensively.

"Let me ask you this, Doc. If she is exclusively seeing Edward, then, why has she spent so much time alone with Jacob here?"

"Edward was out of town for about six months. While he was gone, she spent more time with Jacob. As you said, Jacob and Bella are long-time friends. But... just friends."

"Here's what puzzles me Doc... if it is clear that she is with Edward...that she has chosen to be with him, why would he spy on her? It doesn't seem clear to Edward – if ya see my point."

"That is what I am having difficulty understanding too, Billy." I sighed. "I don't know why he is so mistrusting that he would follow her here." As I spoke these words, a tiny nagging doubt was born. _Did Edward tell me everything? Was there a reason he was jealous? Was Bella playing him against Jacob? Teenage girls were notorious for manipulative games._ Billy sighed again.

"Billy. You can imagine how embarrassed I am by my boy's behavior. I would do anything to take it back, but I can't. I just want to make it right between us again. What can we do? How do we fix this?" He considered my words. He looked at me sympathetically. "There really has been no harm done, has there?" I continued. "He gave the pack a scare by invading your territory, but nobody has been hurt, right? If Edward explains and apologizes, can we put this childish mistake behind us?"

Billy shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "You know that would be fine with me, Carlisle, but, I have to tell you, the pack is agitated - furious, actually. They seem to think there is more to it. They're pressing for more than an apology. It's not that simple."

"More?" I repeated. I felt a chill at the thought of what he might be hinting at.

"Yeah, you know, some kind of official ... uh ... consequences for Edward."

"Ah. I see. That's understandable. What did you have in mind? A fine perhaps?"

"Oh. No. Nothing like that. Jacob and Sam are insisting that it is their right, per the treaty, that Edward be held, questioned and tried under Quileute tribal law. They want to charge him with stalking – harassment with mal-intent."

I felt off balance. I was unprepared for this. "Of course, we would respect the treaty and the laws of your land ... can you explain the charge of stalking in tribal law?"

"Well, the idea is certainly not new. In Quileute history the loose translation was "poisoned love." Most commonly it would be a male paying unwanted attention to a female. If he made a habit of following her or verbally bothering her it would be harassment. If he attempted to rape or hurt her, that would be assault. Revenge or jealousy were common motivations. If found guilty, the punishment was the same as harassment on the milder side, and assault on the more severe side."

"So they want to charge Edward with stalking Bella?

"No Carlisle, not Bella. Stalking Jacob - with intent to harm."

I could feel defensiveness rising in me like bile. "Is there any evidence that Edward intended harm?"

"It seems there is. A weapon was found in the woods where he was hiding. It has his scent all over it."

I stood up suddenly. "A weapon? What on earth!" _Even if he intended to hurt someone, wolf, human or vampire, all he would need are his teeth and his hands! Why would he ever need a weapon?_ _To intimidate? It's just not his style. This doesn't make sense!_ Billy recoiled, unnerved by my reaction and elevated tone.

From the corner of my eye, I caught movement outside. Billy side-glanced at the open door. A massive russet wolf moved into view at the bottom of the porch steps, its eyes fixed on me, its body lowered, tensing to spring. A larger black wolf silently moved in to shadow the first one. I had no doubt the red one could break through the screen door aiming for my throat in one motion.

Billy put his palm out towards the creature. A low rumbling that could only be a growl vibrated the floorboards beneath us. "It's OK! It's nothing. We're just talking." He said smoothly.

_Watch yourself, Carlisle!_ _Calm down, damn it! You need to be the model of reason here... _I took a deep breath, lowered myself back into the armchair and made sure my expression did not reveal what I was truly feeling.

"Sorry, Billy. I got a little ... uh ... confused there." I cleared my throat. "I do apologize." The growling stopped. The wolves sat back on their haunches, but their full attention was still on me.

Billy put his palm up again, waving them away. The mammoth canines stood and sauntered out of sight to either side of the porch shrubbery.

The silence was uncomfortable. I broke it.

"So. A "weapon." What was found?"

"It was a hunting knife. An unusual one – like a pocket knife, but larger, with only one blade. New."

_This is absolute nonsense! Why would Edward have a hunting knife? And even if he did, there's no proof he intended to do anything with it! Perhaps he found it. Perhaps...they planted it? Who's to say the knife even came from that place? Is someone setting him up? _

"Well, I can certainly see why you want to question him. You are well within your rights to do so. I'm sure all will be explained and resolved to both sides' satisfaction." _Ridiculous! _

"I'm sure it will, Carlisle. I'm sure there is a logical explanation. May I suggest we meet this Friday evening?"

"Yes. That will work for my family."

Billy straightened his back in the chair, looking apologetic, but firm. "I'm afraid that I have to tell you not to bring anyone except yourself and your son."

I hesitated, trying to think how to respond. _Are_ _they afraid there would be too many of us? Yes. I'm sure that's it._ Even with all the words of cooperation and goodwill, even with the protective presence of the pack, the veneer of trust was thin at best.

'_Evil men trust not themselves, and even less the righteous,' my father used to say. The deceit they hide in their own hearts, they project on us. Something is wrong here. I'll have to consult Alice. _

"Of course, as you request - just Edward and me." _We shall see_.

I rose from the chair to take my leave, my mind racing, but my face placid. "If I may ask, what is the consequence of this offense?"

"The consequence, among our people, if found guilty, ranges from a warning, to a probationary period with community service, to banishment from the tribe. On the reservation, if at any time we find there has been a crime committed, we reserve the right to turn the accused over to Forks County law enforcement or federal agents." His eyes smiled as he intoned dramatically. "I'm sure we agree there is no way we wish to bring anyone on the outside into our private affairs?"

"That goes without saying. Of course." I said. I took a step past his wheelchair in the direction of the door. "Who do you intend to sit in judgment of the boy for the Quileute trial?"

"There should be five. The three council elders are me, old Quil Ateara and Sue Clearwater. Sam Uley, as the pack Alpha, should be the fourth, and I will ask you to sit as the fifth.

"That seems a little weighted against Edward, don't you think, Chief Black?"

Billy shook his head. "I will admit that Sam might not be the most objective judge, but I think it's wise to represent the pack. I assure you, we three elders, as much as yourself, have no intention but to end this as smoothly and quickly as possible." He offered his hand.

"Trust me, Dr. Cullen."


	4. 4 The Little Monster & The Lamb

**Petite Monstre** (Carlisle's POV)

I barely remembered the drive home from la Push. I was immersed in cycling doubts and worry. Somehow this incident had turned ... sinister. Chief Black's reassurances of objectivity did not dissipate the heaviness that settled thickly on me, compromising the mental clarity I so prized.

When the Mercedes zoomed passed the housing development that, for me, visually landmarked the unmarked border of the reservation, I rolled down the windows and took in a deep breath of non-Quileute air. It was small respite for the stress, but it was good to be off and away from the reservation. My shoulders registered the dissipation of uncomfortable heaviness, and at the same time, Alice's voice blessedly filtered through to my conscious mind, a comfort I always welcomed.

The countryside opened up as La Push Road crossed the Bogachiel River, and frequent cell phone towers had started to appear again. I popped my cell and speed dialed #5. Five, the number of Grace. "Jabberwocky" popped up on the display screen. That little inside joke never failed to me smile.

Dialing. Click.

"Daddy..." Alice purred.

"Hey little monster." I felt better already. "Can you hear me? The reception seemed promisingly consistent here. I just left La Push."

"I know, Daddy" she giggled. "Hey, Bella tells me those Rez boys are kinda yummy, but the wolves are freaky!"

I smiled and started to say something but stopped myself. C_all the Kettle black much? You're more than a little strange yourself, darling!_

"Freaky? Yeah, a bit, I guess. Yummy? No comment." She giggled again. "So, baby, could you see any of the meeting with Billy? What did you think?"

"I saw some of it. You know I get next to nothing when the wolves are around, but when they kept their distance, I got flashes of the conversation between you and the old man. Wow, Dad, I hardly know what to think. You need to ask Edward about the knife, right? This thing is turning into a bad Lifetime Channel movie. Tell you what, I'll keep tuning in to the old guy and see what comes up. Hmmmm? Unfortunately he's the only one I can see, and most of the time, he's surrounded by the dog-boys, so he's blocked too."

"Thank you sweetheart. Good idea." I sighed with weariness. "And hey! Go easy on the 'old' guy stuff. I'm feeling pretty ancient today."

Her silvery laugh never failed to lift my heart. "Oh. Daddy, don't worry, I love you no matter HOW old you are. You're just perfect."

"I AM only five years older than you!" I protested, teasingly.

"Yeah, with 300 plus in your pocket!" she fired right back.

"Don't start!" I mock-threatened. "I'm smarter and older than Edward – you won't win with me."

"Hmmm... winning takes many forms!" she teased.

"You're such a brat today!" I sighed, loving every minute of our banter.

"Daddy?" she said rather quietly. Her tone was suddenly sober.

"Yes, baby?"

"Edward... He... ummm.. You... you know..."

_Of course. She must have had a vision of Edward's punishment this morning. I hadn't made a decision to go ahead with it until after I talked to him, and by that time, she was already at school._

"He's in pain? Yes, honey. He'll get over it."

"Daddy... why do you always have to be so hard on him?" There was exasperation in her tone.

"I know it breaks your heart to know he's hurting. But, the boy has to be held responsible for his actions. He chose to lie to me, Alice. I won't tolerate lying - from ANY of you. It's not like that's anything new. That is why there is an established consequence in this family."

"I know. It's just... What you think of him means so much to him..." I felt a twinge in my chest. "He suffers just thinking he MIGHT have disappointed you. He beats himself up worse than any whipping you give him. Do you really have to add that on?"

I paused, considering how to respond. It was not to my credit that defensiveness polluted my objectivity.

"You're on thin ice right now, Alice." I warned. "You are not immune to consequences either. The way I discipline your brother is not for you to question." I was totally bluffing. Alice had never been spanked, and I doubted ever would be, but I couldn't let her think she could just scold me!

"Daddy, I'm trying to talk to you about something important and sensitive in a mature manner. That's how you want us to act, isn't it? Are you going to threaten me with punishment when I am speaking to you honestly, asking you to just listen to me?"

_Ouch._ Another twinge, as her tiny fist tightened around my heart.

_Damn! For such a little thing, Alice has BALLS, as the boys would say. She is not afraid to speak her mind. Just another reason I adore her. Before she was turned at age 19, she was institutionalized for mental illness. I can see how her personality would have been a threat to those in authority over her in times when women were not encouraged to speak out. I have never seen a sign of mental or emotional dysfunction in her. I do see astonishing bravery, directness, strength, intelligence, progressiveness. I always wonder if that's what really landed her in the asylum. My "little girl" is a formidable woman! _

"Daddy?" _And difficult. _"Dad? You there?" _And spends money like a drunken rock star. God, I love her! _

"I'm..." I cleared my throat. "I'm listening to you, Alice."

"Thank you, Dad. What I want to say is that Edward has matured a lot since he met Bella. I know he's done some immature things recently, but, I think it's just part of the growing process. He hasn't liked himself for so long. He likes the Edward that Bella sees. He finally believes that somebody besides his family can love him, and he is hoping... he can learn to love himself. He's trying on new emotions and behaviors. He's letting down his walls. He's bound to make a few mistakes. I think we need to try to respond to him differently. Do you see what I mean?"

"Ummm hmmm... I guess so..."

"Well, I just wonder... you know... if you let him "get away with" a few things instead of always punishing him... if he would come out of this phase ... faster."

I fought back tears. _Thank God Alice's on the phone, not here in the car with me._ _Alice is putting forth the same arguments that Esme always does, but coming from Alice, I am forced to hear those arguments in a new way. _

_I've been so keyed up since I talked to Charlie yesterday... I just responded to this situation the way I normally would. Confront the problem head on - deal with the kid, deal with the fallout, try to smooth things over. I never even considered an alternate way of proceeding_.

"Daddy? Did we get cut off?" Alice's voice prompted my attention again.

"I'm here, Alice..." She could tell I was distracted. I'm sure she was pleased her words were the reason for the distraction. "I'm thinking about what you said."

"Thank you so much, Daddy. I love you. I'll see you at home soon, OK?"

"A chez nous, ma petite monstre." _At home, my little monster..._

o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o-

**The Lamb** (Edward's POV)

I eased my eyes open to slits, again surveying the slow passage of the sun across the treetops in view outside my window. I hadn't moved much since Carlisle left this morning. I didn't have the will or strength to attempt anything productive after the thrashing Carlisle had "unwillingly" im-parted before he de-parted to try to clean up my mess on the Rez. I had heard him downstairs on the phone to Billy Black earlier.

_I don't want to think about how deep this is gonna get before it's over._ _As rough as that strap was, I'm sure I'm in for much worse before Carlisle is done with me. _

I tried to channel numbness to the electrified nerve endings in my rear, but it wasn't working. Humans had drug options, legal and illegal, to escape physical and emotional pain. Though vampire hypersensitivity might sound like a blessing, sometimes it was damnation itself. We existed in the full intensity of corporal sensation and constant consciousness. No drug could mute our pain or render temporary peace. Bella had no earthly idea what she was getting herself into by being turned.

I had pulled a light coverlet over me, because I was still dressed in only my under shorts, and my siblings would be home soon. My bedroom door wasn't locked. I was sure they would barge right in to pester me with embarrassing questions. _I get no respect or privacy in this house. _

I hadn't even texted Bella today. I groaned. That would mean leaning over the side of the bed to the floor to retrieve my phone from my jacket pocket. _No way._ That was too intimidating a task considering the scorching ache that accompanied any movement more strenuous than breathing. _No, take that back. Even breathing hurts. _So I left it where it lay.

Alice would have given Bella some reason as to why I didn't show today. Emmett would have told her something indecently suggestive and completely false and probably made her worry. That's OK, Alice is the one she'd believe. Hopefully Alice would not reveal too much - in particular, my current state of "deshabille" ... Alice wouldn't betray me. I could trust Alice had the delicate balancing skills necessary to decide which information was "Cullen only" and what was "Cullen plus Bella."

This whole damn thing was blown out of proportion. I knew what I did was stupid, and for three days I had been sure I had gotten away with it – that I had luckily escaped notice_. _

_But nooooo! I really blew it this time._ _Bella's going to find out I followed her to Jacob's – if she doesn't know already. Come to think of it, my phone hasn't rung, had it? No. Bella hasn't called or texted. Oh God. She knows. I'm sure of it. And she's angry. I'm in the shithouse with everyone now._

I looked at the clock_. School's been out for a half hour now._ _The others will be home any minute._ As I completed this thought, my sensitive hearing picked up the sound of a vehicle coming off the main road a few miles away. It was still too far away for me to pick up the driver's thoughts, but it sounded like Rose's sports car.

By the time the vehicle finally reached the house, the squeal of the tires on the driveway from her non-existent curve-banking skills would have made it painfully clear to anyone that the driver was indeed Rose. Never mind that I could also hear her thoughts now, crude and impatient in her anxiousness to go off "hunting" with Emmett. The car stopped, idled, there was a commotion of doors, and then took off to return to the highway.

_Thank God! I don't need the PMS Red Queen and her Royal Dick interrogating me right now._

Less than a minute passed. The door to my room eased open without sound, but the air pressure change and a light, sophisticated perfume scent announced the presence of my terminally annoying but beloved little sister. Actually, seeing her at that moment felt like the first positive thing that had happened in this fucked-up day.

I turned my eyes towards her, trying to move my body as little as possible. Even moving my head caused the stinging to reignite from my lower back down. Despite my discomfort, I tried to brighten my attitude for her sake. I really was glad to see her.

Alice sat down on the bed next to me, absentmindedly adjusting the coverlet with her tiny, beautifully-manicured hands.

"Hey little brother," she whispered affectionately, her big eyes mournful.

"Who's calling who 'little'?" I retorted. Her cheeks dimpled in relief and pleasure when she realized my mood wasn't as dismal as she had expected. She smiled at the prospect of yet another round of our never-ending "Who's the Baby" competition. I baited her weakly. "You're smaller, you're the baby."

She put on a psuedo-scornful smile. "You're 17. I'm 19. You're obviously the baby."

"I'm 108, you're 106. You're the baby. I win!" I gave her a wan smile.

"Puhleeese!" she giggled, but then her face became serious. "Fine. I'll be the baby, but I get Daddy all to myself!"

"You are one selfish, greedy toddler!" I volleyed, grinning.

She giggled again and pulled her fist back, aiming to punch my shoulder. I gasped, anticipating the blow - the havoc it would cause to the rest of my body. She grasped the meaning of my expression too late to stop her momentum. Her whole weight, as slight as it was, fell against my upper shoulder, twisting me over a quarter turn onto my back.

"Jesus, Alice!" I exclaimed, sending my palms and fingers back frantically to halt the waves of pain racing across the length of my back side at the sudden jolt.

"Oops!" she said apologetically as she pulled away. She wasn't used to having to be gentle with me. Normally the full force of her strength had no effect at all on me. I could hold her at arm's length, and she couldn't touch me or break my hold on her. She fastened her thin arms to her torso, holding herself back off the bed, looking at me with the saddest pout imaginable. "I'm sooo sorry, Dee" she whispered.

The pain subsided to a numb roar, and I cracked one eye open to give her my most sardonic expression. "Today, you can have your dear 'Daddy' all to yourself. I'm SO done with him."

"Awww..." she said, sincerely sympathetic. "Poor baby." She examined my face in silence for a minute. "He's going to be home any minute, you know. He's going to want to talk to you."

"What for? Hasn't he tortured me enough for one day?"

"Edward, please. You don't mean that."

"The hell I don't!"

She didn't respond. She was looking at me oddly. I could tell something was up.

"What do you know, Alice?" I said earnestly. "What happened at the Rez? What can you tell me?" _Of course, she must have tuned in..._

I could tell she wanted to tell me, but something was stopping her. She looked away. "They're more pissed off than you think," she said in a deadpan voice.

"Spit it out, Alice!" I warned.

Tears glistened in her eyes. She shook her head. "I-I can't. Carlisle will talk to you."

We both heard car tires hit the dirt road from the distant highway. Alice jumped up.

"Alice, please!" I begged her softly.

"I love you, Edward." She said, as she drifted towards the door. "Daddy loves you too."

"Alice, at least tell me it's going to be alright!"

A whimper escaped her chest. She looked back at me, her big eyes even larger with helplessness and uncertainty. _Oh shit. This is bad._

"I can't! I just can't tell ... yet..." She reached behind her for the door handle, and was gone.

o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o-

I could detect Carlisle's thoughts as he drove closer to the house, but they were jumbled, chaotic, and unusually emotional. _This is not like him_. The wait was agonizing.

Finally he pulled into the garage and killed the engine. The closing of the motorized door echoed with finality in the silence. I listened to his soft path through the kitchen and up the stairs at human speed. On the second floor, he thought of stopping at Alice's door, hesitated, but then passed it by, and proceeded up the last flight of stairs to the third floor. At the top landing, he turned away from my room and went into his own.

Impatience was getting the best of me. I realized my fists were clenched. I wanted to sit up on the bed, but there was no way to do it without incurring considerable discomfort, so I stayed where I was, on my side, facing my bedroom door.

In a few minutes I heard Carlisle exit his bedroom and cross the landing to my door. He entered my room to find me looking up at him expectantly.

"Edward." I remained still and quiet. "How are you, son?"

I let the question be rhetorical. I just looked at him. _Something short of fabulous,_ _Carlisle!_

"We need to talk, son." He sighed. "I know you're trying to scan my thoughts. Please stop and just listen to me, will you? I need to ask you some questions."

I found my tongue. "You just got back from the Rez."

"Yes." He sat on the edge of the bed. He looked me in the eye. His shoulders slumped. "Edward, they are not willing to let this go easily." I didn't respond, so he continued. "They want you to come to the Reservation for a hearing."

"A hearing." I tried to picture it. "By what law? And who will be 'hearing' anything I have to say?" I said scathingly.

He reached across the space between us and grasped my bicep firmly. I squeaked in pain and anticipation of further jolting. He did not release my arm. His expression was not tolerant, his eyes piercing and demanding.

"OK, boy! I'm warning you right now, and I expect you to listen! I have been through a lot today on your behalf, and I won't tolerate ANY more attitude from you. You have NO right to be angry with me or anyone other than yourself. Your lack of respect for others has landed you in your current state of discomfort." He nodded meaningfully at my body as I struggled to suppress my squirming. "You'd be wise to be grateful for any kindness shown to you right now. I don't forsee much grace in your immediate future."

I averted my face in embarrassment. "Sorry," I whispered. He released my arm and reached to tilt my chin up with the tips of his fingers. I was forced to meet his eyes.

"I'm not your enemy, Edward." The soft sober quality of his voice shamed me.

"I know that, Dad," I whispered, finally letting myself call him "Dad" instead of "Carlisle." This cue was to let him know I was prepared to let down my walls to him.

He looked into my face carefully, nodding slightly. "OK. Thank you." He sat back.

"I think the hearing idea is an attempt by the Chief to keep this under control, to pacify the wolves. They're angry, restless...so defensive." He paused. He searched my face. "Son, they're saying you brought a weapon with you."

"Wha- what?" I sputtered in frustration and unbelief. "I don't see - are you saying ...?" My body tensed. I flinched with the movement. I tried to ignore the pain. "WHAT are you talking about Carlisle?" My strong negative reaction actually seemed to reassure him a little.

"Billy told me they found a knife in the forest right where you were concealed. They said your 'scent was all over it.' They are assuming you meant to do Jacob harm."

"Why would I need a weapon to hurt Jacob?" I said sarcastically.

Carlisle was a little taken aback by my tone. "I get your point, but that just doesn't sound right, son. It sounds like you're saying you did mean or would mean Jacob harm, you just wouldn't need a weapon. That begs the question - DID you go there to hurt or intimidate him? Is this another lie of omission?"

I gulped and looked at Carlisle warily. "No!" I moved away from him as I absorbed his implied threat.

"Dad, you are totally jumping to conclusions! Could you try to be on my side for once?"

Carlisle's eyes softened. "I AM on your side, son. I'm on OUR side...I need to get this straightened out...and I need you to answer me truthfully, leaving nothing out. Do you know anything about this knife?"

I shook my head dramatically. "No. No knife. I own no –"

I stopped. My eyes widened. I impulsively moved to reach for my jacket on the floor. The shooting pains down my back caused me to pull back, and my breath hitched. Carlisle's brow creased as he observed me, then he picked up the jacket and handed it to me. I took it without thanking him. I felt the pockets, inside and out. I stopped, searched my memory for a moment, and searched again – even the lining.

"Oh my God!" I gasped. "It's gone! ... I think..."

"What's gone?" Carlisle asked.

"That knife!" I cried, looking at him meaningfully.

Carlisle looked at me cynically, shaking his head. "_How could you Edward! I cannot believe you left THIS out of your story!" _

"Just stop Carlisle! I didn't lie about the knife! You don't get to punish me again!" He shook his head again looking down at his hands. "I just forgot about it! Don't you remember? I found it!" His face was still blank. "You must remember! Alice bought me this jacket on her trip to LA. I found it in the pocket! It folds into itself, right? It's more of a hunting knife than a pocket knife?"

I could see a vague memory starting to solidify in Carlisle's mind. _"I remember Edward and Alice joking about the coat, but I didn't pay close attention."_

"Why would the knife still be in the pocket now?" he asked. "Is that how you wear it around? With a knife as an accessory? What is that, "gang-chic?"

I thought about it, then my face brightened slightly. "I've only worn it twice, that's why! It has been too apparently cold to be wearing leather jackets instead of down ones. I wore it to La Push on Sunday and I was going to wear it to school today."

My father still looked doubtful.

"Ask Alice! Please Dad! You have to believe I had no intention in La Push other than checking on Bella! None!"

I still had the jacket in my hands. I examined the pockets. _Just as I thought! The right pocket had a slit in it._ I examined the hem of the lining. The hem was open for a four inch span. _Anything that had exited the hole in this pocket would have fallen right through!_

Carlisle's expression had changed to one of worry. "I believe you, Edward. But this just makes everything worse!"

I lay dumbfounded on the bed, holding the coat loosely in my hands. "I must have dropped it there...but...but...this is such a silly human accusation! They have to know I wouldn't need or use such a thing!"

"Edward, we ARE dealing with humans. Don't forget that. They may have a supernatural element to their existence, but they live primarily as humans ... and they are much younger than we are. They take this discovery at face value. They perceive us as harmful from the get-go, and a perceived 'weapon' only enhances that mindset."

"What do I do, Dad?"

"They are asking that you and I meet with the Tribal Council on Friday. They want to hear the accusation, the defense, and make a decision. It's a trial, Edward. You can't blame them".

"Decision? Who will decide? Who has that right?" I asked incredulously..

"The three elders, Billy, Clearwater's widow and Old Quil. Then two more - Sam and myself."

"Sam? You?" I sorted the players in my mind. "Sam hates us with a passion, but you cancel Sam out...Carlisle, I can't believe I'm even seriously considering this!"

"I don't know where it will lead, but I do know we need to appease them. You've got to go through with it if we want to continue living in Forks."

My stomach clenched. I wanted to tell my family we should pack up and leave. I wanted to tell them we should not give in to the primitive customs or affronts of non-immortals. _We're above that!_ _We don't need to follow their rules!_ _We're stronger, smarter, richer, invulnerable! _

And suddenly I felt more vulnerable than I had ever dreamed I could feel.

_I can't leave here! I can't fucking live without her! I can't! I won't! I love my family, but now that I know what my existence can be with her... now that I've had a taste... it could never be enough without her! I can't go back to the way I used to be... so violently, repulsively alone, so unrelentingly, decrepitly hopeless... so screamingly, pre-maturely buried in my own black hole of a pointless, psychic-hell eternity that I longed to just go up in flames – to be released once and for all..._

"Edward."

Through a veil of invading tears I looked up into the redeeming eyes of the man who had committed his whole being to me, for better or worse. _He saved me, taught me, protected me, fed me, loved me – and loved me, and kept loving me – so far beyond my deserving..._

Carlisle reached over the bed again, kissing me firmly but tenderly on the forehead.

_Judas kiss._

"Our home is here," he said. "You need to make this right, Edward...for ALL our sakes."

_Sacrificial lamb. _

_Stupid lamb._


	5. 5 Refuge & Blood is Thicker

**Refuge** (Alice's POV)

When I left Edward's room, I fled to the comfort of my dressing room. I curled my legs up underneath me in the big armchair by the window. I sat there for a few minutes not knowing where to place my focus.

I had been surprised to see Edward was still in pretty bad shape from his "conversation" with Dad this morning. I hadn't expected he would still be in such discomfort. I hadn't "seen" how rough Dad had really been with him. The images of Edward filtered into my mind this morning as I split with Jazz to go to my first class. The vision must have been triggered when Father decided to punish him for lying because my visions only occur when a decision has been made. I had abruptly pulled out of the vision when I realized where it was going.

I inevitably saw others' very personal moments from time to time. This often made me uncomfortable, and my father coming down on my brothers was definitely one of those situations that caused me distress. That's why I had underestimated the severity of the whipping – I hadn't watched it – I couldn't. I hadn't even told Jazz what I'd seen this morning. I wouldn't betray Edward. I knew how ashamed he would be. If the other siblings found out, it wasn't going to be because of me.

There was so much I had wanted to say to Edward in his room, but I just hadn't had the heart to scold him to his face. I focused my thoughts on him now. I called his name in my head – the name I only used when speaking to him in the privacy of my head. I hoped he would pick up my thoughts.

_Dee? _

I sat very still, letting the sounds of the still country house filter into my alert ears: Father's car still making its way closer to the house; Jazz downstairs, making his videogame kills, the headphone volume up so loud I could hear tiny explosions as he blasted his tiny monsters; upstairs, the breeze coming in through the open window panels of Esme's sunroom to lick her wind chimes to life.

"Yes, Alice?" I heard my sweet brother's voice oh-so-faintly... and I knew he was listening.

_Why didn't you talk to me before you decided to follow Bella onto the reservation? You know I'm always ready to listen without judgment. I'm your sister, your Alice. You can trust me. I've proved that to you time and time again. I'll help you. Don't shut me out..._

I paused to listen for any kind of response, but there was only the soft tinkling of the chimes to encourage me to continue.

_I think I do know why you didn't confide in me about Jacob and Bella, though. You're embarrassed. You're so jealous of Jacob you can't think of anything else. That must be so painful for you. You're so young in love, so unsure of yourself. It's OK. We've all been there. You don't have to be perfect, little brother. Now that you've let yourself open up, become vulnerable to love someone, you don't know how to control the flood of the emotions you've bottled up so long. A wonderful new high came with loving Bella, but also some of the worst pain you've ever known. Welcome to one of the joys of adulthood! _

I could hear a low chuckle and the whisper of a sigh...

_God, Edward! I just finished saving your butt in Italy! ...but my hands are tied this time. I feel so helpless._

I heard the outside garage door open and close. I listened for the kitchen door, then Carlisle's feet on the stairs.

_Father's under so much stress trying to fix what you've broken, Edward. He hides it so well, but you know him the best, don't you? You see right inside his head... I wish I could help Daddy too... Please don't be so angry with him. Please don't shut him out either. It hurts him. Sorry if that sounds judgmental... He loves you as much as I do. _

Carlisle paused at my door momentarily, almost as if he heard me defending him, but then his footsteps continued up the stairs. I knew Father was headed towards Edward's room, and my heart hurt for both of them.

The house was so quiet. Jazz, with the PlayStation headphones on, was completely isolated in the noises of his pretend wars. I didn't want to overhear the upstairs conversation, so I put on a CD and laid out baskets of clothes to immerse myself in the simple and distracting task of sorting laundry - a check-your-brain-at-the-door occupation that usually calmed me.

I was closeted in my dressing room at the back of the suite I shared with Jazz. Mom had designed this space just for me. She knew how it pleased me to be surrounded by my treasures – my beautiful clothes. She had grown irritated that every spare closet in our other houses was stuffed with my things. Here, ample racks and shelves lined the creamy blush walls. Beveled mirrors set into twin art-deco armoires on the west end reflected in the twin round-mirror vanities at the east end of the room. Reflection ricocheted against reflection to create those infinite mirror corridors I love. Pale pink and cream sconces of translucent glass tiles warmly illuminated the practical yet intimate space. I could even choose to forego electricity by spreading the tall shutters to the expanse of northern forest haloed with cloud-muted sunlight. Under one window sat the armchair, the CD player, a table lamp and my sewing basket.

_My cloister. My cave._ _My asylum._ _Whites. Colors._ _Delicates. _

_The antique lace on French lingerie this season is so yummy ... Jazz is such a "guy." He pays absolutely no attention to what I'm wearing – or what he himself is wearing, for that matter ... I swear, if I didn't dress him he wouldn't be fit to take out of the house ... Loose jeans, t-shirts and those everyman plaid flannel shirts - ugh! – the Seattle grunge uniform ... Of course he'd look downright delicious in anything ... or nothing!_ I couldn't help smiling as I envisioned Jazz' in "nothing."_ My Jazz is so amazingly sexy ... He's oblivious to his scars, and as far as I'm concerned they're just another thing to love about him ... It is wise for him to wear long sleeves outside the house, though. People ask too many questions ... _

I hummed to the CD and blissfully lost track of time as I cleared my head with the smell of clean clothes, shoe leather, and the delicious weight of fabrics over my arms.

There was a soft knock at my bedroom door.

"Alice?"

Father's voice was tinged with weariness. There was an odd hollow resonance to it that made me think he had his head pressed close to my bedroom door. I could imagine him leaning heavily against the door jamb.

"Come in Daddy," I called out. "Please."

He entered respectfully, then, despite the burden evident on his handsome shoulders, crossed the bedroom towards the double dressing room doors with his typical grace and self-possession.

_My adorable father. He lets me shop for him, he gives me almost free reign to buy him exquisite clothes, and he wears them better than the models. He rarely challenges a garment I choose for him, and when he does, I secretly think it's because Mom doesn't like it! _

He reached up to touch with one hand the top of the wide door jamb. He looked stylishly poised and ... distinctly exhausted. He said nothing for a moment, just looked at me.

"You're done talking to Edward." I tried not to sound too sure of myself, though I knew it was a fact. I didn't want him to think I'd been purposely eavesdropping, though we both knew anyone in the house could have heard their conversation. "What now?"

"I need the family together now. It's time. We need to talk. Do you have any idea where Rose and Emmett are?"

I felt my face get a little warm as I tried to think of a way to put my answer diplomatically. "They... well, I think... ummm... Hunting?"

"Ah!" said Carlisle. "Of course." He knew Emmett and Rose as well as I did. "Right. 'Berkshire Hunting' is more like it. Well, in any case, would you please text them and tell them we have an emergency family meeting? They need to get themselves home."

"Sure, Daddy. You know Jasper is here already and Mom will be back from town any time now."

"Thank you, sweetheart. I'm going to my room to collect my thoughts before I have to let everybody know what's going on."

o-o-o-o-o-o

*_'__Berkshire__ Hunt' is cockney __rhyming slang__ for '__cunt__.' Carlisle is originally from London. He is discreetly acknowledging what they all know – Rose and Emmett like to have sex in the woods. _

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**Blood is Thicker** (Objective POV)

The split-level Cullen living room was minimally but elegantly furnished in Esme's penchant for artsy ultra-modern furniture. Four Scandinavian white on cream sofas formed a conversational grouping on the lover level. A couple of isolated matching armchairs and simple floor lamps created inviting reading areas near the windows. Edward's glossy black grand piano dominated the upper level of the spacious greatroom.

The sun had already gone down below the line of trees on the west side of the house. The floor-to-ceiling glass of the south wall amplified the cool, waning illumination as twilight approached.

Esme had turned on various lamps and recessed overhead lights throughout the space before seating herself next to Carlisle. He held her hand between his, stroking her fingers gently with his thumb. He met her eyes for a prolonged moment, then released her and looked up to address the others.

They sat in married pairs: Rose with Emmett, Alice with Jasper. Emmett, as usual, was the first to voice what everyone was thinking.

"Where's Edward?" All eyes turned towards Carlisle, reflecting the query.

"Edward will not be joining us right now." He cleared his throat. "I've called you together because something has happened that affects us all." He paused.

Alice's eyes were sad, but she looked at her father encouragingly. "Go on." she said.

"The treaty has been broken."

Soft exclamations of surprise came from Rose and Emmett and Jasper.

Emmett leaned his large frame forward, sitting up straight, shaking his head.

Jasper tensed, alarm flashing in his eyes. He looked over at Alice questioningly, then to Emmett, then back to Carlisle.

"Broke by them." Jasper clarified cautiously.

"No." Carlisle sighed. "By one of us."

"Not by me! I swear!" Emmett bristled. "I don't care what they say!"

"No, son... not you... by Edward."

The atmosphere in the room was charged with disbelief.

"When? Why? How?" Emmett, Rose and Jasper's voices overlapped. Alice did not speak, which caused Jasper to look back at her suspiciously. He could tell by Esme's expression that Carlisle had already briefed her. It was now evident Alice was already in-the-know as well.

"Just listen to Carlisle," Alice said softly.

Carlisle's shoulders slumped slightly, then he looked up at them and started in.

"Edward went to La Push last Sunday. He was not invited. He was not welcome. He... he followed Bella when she went to visit Jacob." He waited a moment to let this sink in. "He somehow thought he could do this undetected." Emmett snorted. Carlisle continued. "He was wrong.

"I don't know what possessed him to think he could get away with it, but the fact is he did it, and he was discovered. Yesterday, I was informed, indirectly, that the Quilutes knew the whole time he was there."

"Tha pack, you mean," said Jasper somberly, ever the analyst, the strategist. "Tha wolves musta picked up his scent."

"Not only picked up his scent, but tracked him – I imagine - from the moment he crossed the southern border at First Beach to the moment he exited over the Northeast border."

They all started talking at once.

"How could Edward NOT know they were tracking him? Did he go deaf and blind?" Rose burst out. "That's ridiculous!"

"Why didn' they attack him?" Jasper overlapped her.

"Can't he smell them? They stink! Couldn't he read their thoughts?" Emmett joined in.

Carlisle held up his hand to silence them. "These are all valid questions. I don't know the answers for sure, though I have my theories. I confronted Edward this morning. He can't answer those questions himself."

There was silence as everyone tried to sort out the details in their own heads. Carlisle offered his theory.

"Sometimes when we are distracted, we miss things, we overlook the evidence our senses present to us. I know the evidence – wolf scents and wolf thoughts - seems overwhelming in this case, but you can't discount the boy's obsession with his girl. The jealousy he exhibited is VERY typical of our kind." Emmett and Jasper nodded in agreement.

"His woman was with anotha man on anotha man's land. Tha otha man has made an outright bid for her affections. Where I come from, that's cause for loading your gun and gettin' your horse ready to ride!" reasoned Jasper.

"Edward asked Bella to marry him, but she didn't say yes. I'm sure Edward wonders if the reason she gave him is the REAL reason – I certainly would." mused Emmett.

"There are many factors that could lead to his distraction, when you really think about it." commented Esme. "Your father told me the scent of the wolves is so prevalent in La Push, you wouldn't notice one coming near you. There's no contrast of scents. It tends to saturate your senses to a particular scent.

"Excuse me, suh? Jasper exclaimed, trying to stay respectful, but obviously agitated. "Did I heah that right? You went to the reservation?"

"I was about to get to that, Jasper. You should all know I myself went to La Push today - to meet with Chief Black. And before you ask… Yes. Alone."

"Ya shouldn' a gone alone!" Jasper protested.

"Well, I did, and I was fine. It was a rational and productive meeting. Edward and I are expected to return to La Push Friday evening to meet with the tribal council."

"An' tha pack!" Jasper frowned.

"Perhaps," responded Carlisle, "but this is going to be handled in a civilized manner by both sides. Edward will make amends by whatever means is deemed fair. Chief Black and I are already in agreement on that point."

"We'll all be there to support you." said Emmett. "We'll make sure it's fair."

Carlisle shook his head. "No son. I've agreed it will just be Edward and me."

"Tha's just not right!" said Jasper. His smooth drawl, rarely elevated from its laid-back Texas calm, was becoming strained. "Ya can't go alone! Ya need us there!"

"Hell yes!" boomed Emmett. "No way are you guys putting yourselves in such a vulnerable position!"

"Edward should go by himself!" muttered Rose. "He caused the problem! It's always something with that damn human! He just acts a fool around her!

"Stop it Rose." said Carlisle. "The reason for this situation is moot at this point. He violated our treaty. He will make amends. We will go – alone - to La Push on Friday – that is what I promised, and I keep my promises."

"You trust them?" Rose said incredulously.

"He has no choice," Esme spoke up, "except to choose to trust them."

"We jus' haven't thought this through! There has ta be anotha way!" said Jasper.

"If we are to continue living here in Forks, we have to get along with the tribe. We know we are not going to hurt them, but they don't know that. Someone has to take the first step in good faith. I am willing to not only take a step, but make a leap. I want peace between us. I would like trust to develop between us. I feel confident relations will be stronger between us when this is all done. If we proceed with honor, so will they."

"You live in a fantasy world, Carlisle" Rose muttered under her breath.

"Rose, you will show your father respect." Esme said in a brittle tone. Rose crossed her arms, shaking her head, but kept her comments to herself.

"OK, then." Carlisle sighed. "Next item on the agenda."

"There's more?" Rose spoke up.

"Rose, you are sorely testing my patience," said Esme, pointing sharply at her.

"Geez!" Rose complained throwing herself back on the sofa, almost hidden from her mother by Emmett's massive frame.

"This is not normally a decision I would put before the family, but I... frankly... don't quite know how to proceed... and I want to be fair..." Carlisle looked around at each face. "Should Edward be punished? And if so, what is fair? This is just about the most serious thing one of you could do to disrupt the peace of our life here," He squeezed his temples. "With the obvious exception of what Edward attempted in Italy..." _My God, is this a pattern? Edward, I thought we were done with this craziness…_

Everyone except Esme looked a little stunned and uncomfortable. Esme's expression was shut-down. One could guess she and Carlisle had discussed this already and she was not happy with the outcome. The siblings all knew their parents never agreed on this issue, and they could guess what Carlisle's proposal had been.

"The fact is this. Edward has admitted he did trespass onto Quilute land. He has admitted he broke the treaty." Carlisle stated.

"When did he admit it? This morning? He said nothing for three days?" Rose asked. She looked around defensively, carefully avoiding Esme's eyes. "Well, somebody's got to ask that question if we're supposed to make a decision, right?"

Carlisle considered the question carefully before he answered. "Right. Edward did not come forward on his own. He admitted everything after I confronted him this morning. You all know my position on lying, including falsehood by omission. If you come forward, you may still be punished, but less severely."

Emmett looked at Rose, then over at Jasper and Alice, and back to Carlisle. "You're saying he DID lie to you?"

"Yes." Carlisle answered. "And he has already been punished for that."

Emmet and Jasper exchanged glances and nods. Clearly they'd already speculated as to why Edward stayed home from school this morning.

"You knew this, Alice?" Emmett questioned.

Alice looked up shyly. "What do you think? It's not like I can help it."

Looking back at Carlisle, Emmett nervously braved a further question. "So, did you... uh... follow house rules on that?"

Carlisle answered without hesitation. "Yes."

Emmett twisted in his seat uncomfortably. "He must be pretty torn up."

"Based on your very personal experience." teased Jasper, smirking, glancing down at Emmett's rear-end. Jasper had to listen to Emmett tell those same bravado-filled stories Emmett told Edward.

Carlisle's eyebrows were raised, Esme's brow was furrowed. "So, it comes down to... does he get another whipping as punishment for the offense - breaking the treaty? More than one? Would you suggest other consequences? A combination?" Esme turned her head away from her husband, her hand literally over her lips as she struggled not to interrupt him.

"If you leave it up to me, then I will assume maximum consequences apply. He will receive another whipping, at least as severe as the one he received today, and without consideration of his privacy. He will also be grounded with no cell, no computer, no music and no driving for two months. He will be escorted when he hunts. He will be assigned projects to complete at home. If Bella wishes to see him, she can come here – with advance notice and permission. Visits will be limited and chaperoned."

The four siblings looked at each other. Alice's eyes glistened with tears.

"Harsh!" said Emmett.

"You don't think what he has done deserves harsh consequences?" Carlisle responded.

Emmett sighed. "Pops. He royally screwed up, and I don't understand how or why yet ... but this isn't normal behavior for him. He didn't mean to hurt us. I just can't sentence my brother to get beat again. I've been on the receiving end enough myself, and I just can't do it to him." He looked up at Carlisle apologetically. "I can't! I go along with everything else, the grounding and cell phone and driving and all, but... Pops, he already got the strap for lying, and I know how bad that is. I just think that's enough already. No more. He's paid."

Carlisle looked at Jasper. Jasper straightened up, unconsciously falling into his old military mode, and Carlisle knew his tone would be formal.

"Suh, I havta agree with Emmett, suh. It sounds like it wasn't sumthin' premeditated. It's not 'first degree,' as they say. He acted without thinkin' it through, sure, but he's not a crim'nal. He didn' hurt nobody, right? He IS a kid and he AIN'T a kid, we all deal with that li'l conundrum. He's sorry, ain't he? I say no more whippin's fo' the boy. He done a real bad thing, but, he's got ta have learned his lesson by now."

Carlisle looked over at his littlest daughter. He pretty much knew what she would say, but he asked anyway. "Alice?"

"Grounding yes, restrictions, yes. One month, not two. Another thrashing? No, Dad." Everyone looked a little stunned by Alice's sure manner. The other three kids looked slightly envious that she'd had the luxury of thinking this through beforehand.

Finally, Carlisle's gaze fell on Rose, who had kept quiet since Esme last rebuffed her.

Rose used Emmett's body for leverage, pulling herself up to her full seated height on the edge of the sofa.

"Mom, I'm going to use a fucking lot of profanity now." She grinned. "I just thought I'd warn you." Esme shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Edward and I have been at each other's throats for 50 years. At least, it must seem that way. I say a lot of crap about him, and I honestly DO mean most of it." She smiled mischievously.

"But what I NEVER say is...that I really do care about the pompous little shit." She avoided looking at Esme who was frowning furiously. "He's my brother. I accept that. He drives me crazy, he's an arrogant, pretentious bastard, but - there are things I do respect about him.

"I was thinking one time...What kind of brother would I really want if I could choose to replace Edward?

"I'm not talking about you here, Jasper. You're fine. I mean, you don't get up in my face, you're civil without being patronizing. You put Alice first, and that's understandable. You don't feel a need to be my best friend, and that's good too.

"But Edward... he just can't leave me alone. I don't know if he's trying to get closer to me or push me farther away, but we are always on each other's last nerve. He acts like my fucking father at times. I HAVE a fucking father already – sorry Dad, you know what I mean - I don't need him telling me what to do!

"Rose!" Esme interjected. "Your language is intolerable!"

"It's OK for now, sweetheart," Carlisle said in a low aside. "Just let her express herself right now. It's just us."

"Really!" Esme huffed, then under her breath she said "This is why she's such a brat, Carlisle!"

Rose smirked at this exchange, then continued.

"Anyway...what is it with Edward? If this is brotherly love - I can live without it! He constantly criticizes me, blocks me, disapproves of me...

"I thought about all the things that Edward is NOT...tolerant, forgiving, sharing, patient, affectionate. But, you know, the opposite of Eddie could be someone not very smart, not so fucking fast, not a decent driver and mechanic, not a friend to my Emmett, not always defending me to the people whose heads I've bitten off...

"well, not literally of course..." she chuckled, "the biting, I mean...

"Ed's so uptight. He puts his completely ridiculous, pointless, absurd, pain-in-the-ass self right in my path every day. How could I fucking live without that? I'd laugh a hell of a lot less without the little prick around.

"I imagined a brother who doesn't pester me like he does, who doesn't call me on every damn mistake and slight - and I realized that might be a brother who, bottom line, doesn't care as much. As much as I bitch about Eddie, I actually think I'm pretty lucky. Anyone else would have started a bonfire with me by now." She snickered.

"Obviously I'm still here... and that must mean he has found a way to put up with me. That's a lot to ask of anyone." Emmett nodded and grinned.

"Just shut up Emmett!" Rose said in a low voice. Emmett just shrugged and smiled good-naturedly.

"Anyway, I realized, I don't want anything different. I don't want anyone different. I want Edward. Better the Devil you know than the Devil you don't, right? That boy is definitely the Devil at times...

"Right now everything is coming down on Eddie's head. Everybody either hates him or thinks he's a total dumbshit. Even his idiot girlfriend is pissed at him. All he has is us. I know this is gonna shock the hell out of you guys but... I think we should give him a break. I don't think Carlisle should whip him. Everybody gets one "get out of jail free card", and THIS is the time for Edward to use his.

"Well, that's what I wanted to say. You all can tell me to shove it up my ass if you want."

Everyone was frozen. Rose had dumbfounded them all. Carlisle's arms were folded across his chest, his head down, but tilted up just enough to look at Rose though his eyelashes. Esme had tears in her eyes, her palm now resting on her cheek in amazement. Jasper's eyed Rose suspiciously as if he were waiting for the nasty punch line. Alice's face had a look of hopeful surprise behind her clasped hands. Emmett's mouth hung open.

"Shut your mouth, Emmett, for Christ's sake!" Rose said in a disgusted tone.

Jasper barked a short laugh. Emmett responded with a deeper chuckle. Nervous and then relieved laughter rippled through them all, breaking the ice.

"Ros-a-lee Hale," Jasper intoned. "Ah think you jus' named tha el'phant in the middle of tha room."

"Well put, Jasper." Carlisle smiled, nodding slowly. "And her name is Mercy."

"What the hell does that mean?" Rose said with an irritated shrug.

"It means that you said what we were all thinking. It means none of us want Edward to suffer more," Alice said kindly. "You spoke for all of us, and rather eloquently at that. Having to face the Quileutes is bad enough, and then he still has to deal with Bella finding out he followed her. He's scared. He doesn't need to be condemned by us."

Carlisle stared at his hands for a moment, then looked up at them. He nodded with finality.

"Alright then. Thank you all. Your mother and I will proceed as you have advised. I'm touched by your concern and support for your brother." Rose gave a sarcastic snort, and Carlisle's lips turned up in a hint of a grin as he looked meaningfully at her. "Especially yours, my sweet Rosalie."

In the momentary lull that followed, six sets of sharp ears picked up a very faint but unmistakable sound from the third floor. Edward was sobbing.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons.

~ Johann Schiller

The thing about family disasters is that you never have to wait long before the next one puts the previous one into perspective. ~Robert Brault


	6. 6 Forgive Them That Trespass

_**Forgive Them**___**That**___**Trespass**___**Against**__**Us**__

(Edward's POV)

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"_Thank you all. Your mother and I thank you for your advice. I'm touched by your concern and support for your brother." _

I listened, unbelieving.Carlisle's final words sealed what I had not dared to hope. My family was giving me a break. Somehow they didn't loathe me for jeopardizing the untroubled course of our recondite existence. _I made waves, but they haven't thrown me out of the boat. Yet._

My head and heart were suddenly suffused with the sweetness of gratitude, mingled with the bitterness of remorse. I knew I was undeserving of their mercy.

I willed myself to relax, but I could feel my diaphragm trembling. A sob came up unbidden from somewhere too deep for me to control. My body quaked involuntarily from my arches to my earlobes. That one sob opened the floodgates, and in moments I was heaving fractured breaths of relief and contrition into my pillows. I tried to be quiet, but my aching body and frayed emotions refused to obey my will.

_I've done so much crying today already, _I thought with disgust. The familiar, unwelcome burn of venom rose again in my throat, in my eyes. Ever private by nature, I tried to at least stifle the noises threatening to burst through my chest.

_Ya know what? Fuck it. I really don't care who hears me right now._

When the pillowcase was soaked with poison tears, I finally fell silent, clutching the down bolster, wishing it were my Bella pressed against my chest, making all thought exquisite chaos with her all-encompassing scent, the warm weight of her small body resting on my chest, her silken skin brushing mine, her mahogany hair, burnished and dark, heavy on my neck.

I reached over to pick up the stereo remote from my bedside table. I pressed PLAY. The gongs and bell-like percussion instruments of Javanese court gamelan spread across my senses like a fragrance, quieting my battered nerves with its hypnotic pace.

_Well, it appears I'm gonna lose my music, so might as well enjoy it until I'm told to stop! _

_Carlisle knows I was listening. He expected me to listen. I don't need to pretend I didn't hear. What just went down? I can barely process this turn of events. Carlisle always gets his way. Always. It seems that if there's any way on earth for him to justify punishing me, he finds it. He holds me to such high standards. Why just me? There is no way I can ever be as good as he is, or good enough for him... _

_I'm not being fair, am I? I'm getting a break this time. I need to stop whining. _

_Carlisle must have known this could happen. He must have changed his mind about punishing me again. Could he regret what he put me through this morning? He didn't have to tell everyone about this morning. That was private. No one else needed to know. Unless… he knew the others would choose against inflicting __more__ hurt on me if they knew... except Rose... I would have laid cash on Rose being 100% on Dad's team. _

The gentlest of knocks sounded at my door. Carlisle let himself in, approaching me where I lay on my bed in the dense-darkness. The only light was the blue glow from my stereo from which the music, sonorous and slow, drifted. Too soon, music wouldn't be an option - for a very long time. I would rather have had the physical punishment and kept my freedom and privileges, but that choice wouldn't be offered to me. _Grounding and other restrictions are a fixed part of my consequences whether or not I get my hide tanned in the bargain._

Carlisle sat on the bed. We could see each other easily in the dim light. He looked at me intently.

"How are you feeling?" asked my father, the eternal physician, reaching to stroke my forehead with his thumb.

"I can move a lot better now." I waited to let him bring up the subject foremost on both our minds.

He was silent for a few moments, observing me. "I assume you already know what we've decided."

"Basically." In a whisper I added, 'Thank you."

He was silent momentarily, the look on his face indecipherable. "I have to tell you frankly, Edward, I don't agree with their decision."

_Shit. I knew this was too good to be true... _My shoulders and back tensed. The residual ache in my thighs awoke.

"I think you deserve more severe consequences. Don't you?"

_Surely I'm not expected to answer that! _Guilt rose up from my gut like bile, choking any possibility of speech. _Of course I deserve more severe consequences. More severe than he even suggested, but I'm not going to say so..._

"But I will abide by their decision nonetheless. I pray that mercy will teach you what punishment has not."

_God! Do you __enjoy__ torturing me this way, Carlisle?_

Mercy was the wine that washed the bile back down, compassion the host that completed the Eucharist of my father's forgiveness.

"So... you are on maximum restriction. You already know what all that entails, and if there are any doubts in your mind, I expect you to fully clarify your boundaries with me before you take a step."

"I understand," I said meekly.

"I'll take your car keys and phone now."

"OK, they're in my jeans, there on the floor... but... Dad?" my tone was pleading.

"What is it?" he answered reluctantly. _How well he knows me._

"Please, I- I need to see Bella. I really REALLY need to see Bella."

"You may call her before I take the phone." He said firmly. I furtively checked his thoughts, he was protecting them.

"Stay out of my head, Edward, I'm warning you." He narrowed his eyes. "You certainly have a knack for being where you are not welcome!" I was briefly embarrassed, but I was chided by him constantly for this. I was used to it. I continued to press the issue.

"Dad, this is too important. I have to see her. I need to know where I stand with her. I need to do this in person. Can you understand that? I need to face her. I need to make sure I haven't damaged her trust so much that..." _That she would leave me…? Oh God,_ _I can't VOICE that possibility… I can barely THINK it… _ I turned up the volume on my distress. "Can my restrictions start tomorrow morning?"

"She can come here, it's still early." he insisted, rolling his eyes at my dramatic tone.

"Her truck isn't working. She has no vehicle. I don't need my car, I can go on foot if I have to, but she can't get over here." I hoped my tone was appropriately respectful yet highlighted my desperation. "Please, Dad. I accept the consequences you've decided on. Just… please… just this one thing."

He considered a moment, meeting my eyes directly, his look thoughtful.

"Alright," he said reluctantly, "Take your car and cell and go to Bella's. I will collect them when you get home."

"Thank you! I-"

"No spending the night at Bella's. Restriction starts at midnight. You are to be home at that time or before."

"Thank you Dad." I breathed with relief. I added feebly, "So... how long am I grounded?"

"One month – and you can thank Alice for THAT - IF you don't violate it. You transgress any part of this ruling, you won't leave the house except to hunt and attend graduation." He gave me a hard look that made me cringe inside. "You violate this grounding, Edward, and I promise, you will not escape the full punishment you unquestionably deserve."

"I understand, Dad. I do. Thank you."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The anticipation I felt as I got dressed to go see Bella helped me to ignore the lingering physical discomfort. It was still early evening, I would have plenty of time to talk to her and still get home before my midnight curfew.

So many conflicting thoughts swirled through my head, I was so distracted, I found I was actually driving at the speed limit, not 20-40 mph over it as usual.

"_You need to make this right, Edward...for ALL our sakes," _Carlisle had said.

I felt pulled apart on every front. My head in one direction, my heart in another, and thanks to Carlisle's morning ministrations my body's discomfort was tugging my attention in yet another direction. How could I ever make things right again?

I was going to have my ego dragged through mud and blood before I saw the light at the end of this filthy tunnel. _What a fiasco. Public humiliation Friday on the reservation, that's for sure – for me and for Carlisle. _

_What would Carlisle do if he were in my place? I wonder if he has ever done anything this stupid in his life. He wasn't always so wise. He was young once. I wonder how he would handle such a situation? Knowing the way he thinks, I'll bet he would come forward to those he had offended, not wait for them to seek him out and accuse him. Carlisle would do anything to protect his inner circle, the ones he loves… even put himself in danger. _There was a palpable lump in my throat.

_I am a walking disaster. Why would they even want me in this family after that stunt I pulled in Italy, and now this? I had expected to be harshly punished after Carlisle told them all I had broken the treaty... and somehow I am walking away with mere restrictions! What surprises me is not so much the merciful decision, but that Carlisle offered them that power. _

_The thing is, the guilt is killing me. Same old pattern. Edward screws up. Edward beats himself up. 'Edward you're so moody, so arrogant, so selfish.' Edward suffers, everybody suffers, right? I don't really care what the Quileutes think about me, but I have to care that I have hurt Carlisle so deeply. I've damaged his reputation - by proxy. _

_Maybe I could talk to Jacob... If I could just apologize, "eat crow," calm him down so he'd calm down the wolf pack. They're the ones behind all this drama anyway. Of course they are. The old people on the council, they're just the figure heads, public face. The young wolf pack is the driving force behind the elders, and they're pushing their agenda – Jacob's agenda. _

_Carlisle had said,_ _"I suspect this new generation of Quileutes does not have quite the tolerance their grandparents did. Sometimes I think they're just waiting for a chance to come down on us."_

_And since Bella and I got together, Jacob has had a personal vendetta against me. He's whipping the rest of the pack into a vengeful frenzy because he fucking hates me. He hates me for winning her. I can't really blame him. She's worth winning. Leave it to me, the first time I fall in love, I step on some other guy's claim._

_Have I really won her? Have I actually achieved that? She won't agree to marry me. She says she loves me, but I fucking bared my heart to her and she refused. That nags at me every moment of every day. Intellectually, I understand her reasons, but… Damn! I want her so badly I can taste it! Uh oh...bad choice of words… But seriously, her refusal to commit to me makes me doubt myself. I want her on MY terms, not on HER terms. Does that make me a bastard? God knows she would have made love to me long ago if I had let it happen. Those would be her terms. But… I.… just couldn't go there. That's not who I am. And she loves who I am, right? I use the excuse that I might hurt her. Is that the real reason I'm so afraid? Am I just selfish? Do I want too much? Am I asking too much? _

The moon was not full, but at three-quarters it was incredibly large and bright. There were a few clouds, but they only temporarily obscured the moonlight. Basically, it was a clear night in Forks. Visibility was so good I allowed myself an extra 10 mph on the straightaways.

_I wonder if I can get a call through to Jacob. Maybe I should try tonight while I still have my phone. Bella will have his number. What the hell am I going to say? Whatever I say, I have to remember to keep my temper strictly controlled. He's so obnoxiously rude. He enjoys getting under my skin. I'll have to bite my tongue and let HIM have the control. I will need to let him win a little. I have to find some way for Jacob to be satisfied that HE has won in some way. Shit. Who am I kidding? I'm going to have to grovel. It's the only way he's going to let up on this issue._

Finally I crossed the bridge before Bella's street. I strained to look ahead towards her house, and I noticed not only was Charlie's patrol car in the driveway, but so was Bella's truck. _I thought the truck was in Charlie's friend's shop for something major. That's what she told me yesterday. Though... Rose and I can handle just about anything mechanical, including transmissions..._

I pulled onto the shoulder to park about 100 yards from her house. I didn't want my car to be evident in front of the house. I was going straight up to her bedroom window, and I didn't want to have to interact with Charlie. Charlie made no secret of his dislike for me; being around him was an effort.

As I approached the front of the house my body instinctually tensed defensively as I picked up the irritating scent of the sort-of-human sitting on the front steps.

Jacob.

He sensed me just a moment later.

He was hovering over a big metal tool box. _Ah. Jacob had been working on her truck, not Charlie's mechanic friend. Charlie probably asked him to do it. Bella would have asked me or Rose. Unless Bella is mad at me..._

He eyed me casually. "I should have known you'd come skulking around. Seems to be what you do best, you fucking leech."

I wouldn't let him bait me. I needed to talk to him.

"I need a word with you." I paused. He did not respond. I pressed. "Come away from the house, I don't want Bella and Charlie to hear," I said in a low tone.

Jacob stood, his muscled frame and height impressive for such a young teenager, and to most people, probably intimidating. He walked with smooth confidence, showing no signs of hesitation at being alone with me. Despite his cocky attitude and presence, I was completely confident he was no match for me. I felt anxious, though. It was not fear of him physically that threatened me, but the irrationality and jealousy that motivated him to constantly badger and sabotage me. Most of all, I dreaded his ability to influence Charlie and others against me. I didn't know yet, but by now, Bella might be included on that hating team.

When we were 50 yards from the house, I stopped and cleared my throat. "I- I'm glad I ran into you. I wasn't sure how to get hold of you." He raised his brows in surprise, then he glowered again with suspicion.

"What the Hell for?" he spat in response.

"I want to apologize." He just sniffed. "I'm sorry. I was totally in the wrong."

"You are so full of shit. You hate me as much as I hate you." His eyes narrowed. "You must really be nervous about something to even try to talk to me, dude." He added with a sarcastic smile, "Was daddy upset with you?"

_Damn! Where did that come from? No... calm down... he doesn't know that what he's saying happens to be painfully true. He's just attempting to belittle you, Edward._

"I'm serious, Jacob." Jacob noticeably reacted with disgust when I used his name. "What is this trial business about? What do you want from me?"

"The 'trial'?" Jacob sneered. "The council hearing is bullshit. It's just for show – to keep the peace. That's what your leader and our chief want. But it's not what WE want. I promise you, your kind is my pack's prime target and we will NOT let down our guard. It may not be a war, yet, but all of you are going to feel our presence like never before.

"YOU should be tried by a different jury," he said approaching me fearlessly, poking his pointing finger into my upper chest. I had to admire his bravery – or did he really have no idea the damage I could do to him if I wished? "A jury that would make you really pay for what you've done - the traditional punishment - to fit the crime you've committed."

"What is it I've done that is so bad? What law have I broken?" I felt my temper rising like hot water, expanding with explosive energy towards the boiling point. It took all my will to control my hands at my sides and the expression on my face - to feign the calm I did not feel.

"Stalking!" He glared. "You fucking stalked me! You hunted me down on my own Rez with a weapon. You think you can just get away with that you arrogant blood junkie?"

_Yeah, Yeah, I know. Edward is so fucking full-of-himself..._

I wanted to revel in the horrible but delicious images that were invading my imagination... ripping out the flesh of his neck with my teeth and spitting it out on the ground, then drinking every drop of life out of him as he struggled in my grasp and finally went limp and glassy-eyed. How enormously satisfying that would be...

Then my daydream soured. His blood probably tasted as bad as he smelled. How could wildcats be so delicious, yet dogs so putrid? These black but amusing thoughts took the edge off my murderous anger. I was able to pull back to my rational self, to force myself to calm again.

I had to turn away from him. The consequences of my anger could be disastrous if I continued to confront him directly. I spoke to him tersely, my body turned sideways to him in a non-aggressive stance.

"Please, let me explain, for what it's worth..." I paused, he remained silent, I continued. Yes, I trespassed on your land, and that was wrong, but the bottom line is, I meant you no harm. "

"Like I would believe anything you say! Why should I? You've no respect for others, that's been well established! I think the evidence is quite clear! I think Bella will agree, don't you?"

"Jacob, I would never hurt you. To hurt you would be to hurt Bella." I said defensively, "I will talk to Bella. I will be honest with her. Bella will understand and forgive me."

"Well guess what, Romeo, she won't want to see you! She'll be disgusted by what you've done! You stalked her too! You cut your own throat with that smart move! She's proud and independent, she's a modern woman, but you just won't acknowledge that, you antique fucking control freak. Your possessive behavior pisses her off royally! You think she hasn't told me the other ridiculous stuff you've done? Following her in your car? Disabling her truck so she can't come see me? Smooth!"

I was shocked by this comment, but I wouldn't let him see that. _Bella discussed our personal relationship with him? I would not think she was that kind of person, but then...how close were they? Perhaps I had underestimated..._

"But what Bella thinks of you is not my problem." He sneered. "Your crime is against me personally." He struck his chest in that most primitive of male-challenge gestures.

I focused my resolve, my calm, my reason. "Bella doesn't know yet about my presence on the Rez last Sunday?" I asked. _ Maybe there's a chance for damage control…_

"No. She didn't mention it. I didn't tell her. We have more important things to talk about than YOU, believe me…"

_In the family meeting, Rose accused Carlisle of living in a fantasy world because he thought the old feud between the wolves and the vampires could be settled once and for all. He thinks there could actually be peace. The wolves know now that we are not the same as the "cold ones" that plagued their ancestors and led to the original morphing of man to wolf. We are cold, but we have consciences. Obviously Carlisle doesn't think the wolves are a danger to us, and we know we are not a danger to them. Carlisle said he was prepared to take the first leap. Am I willing to take a leap for the sake of peace? _

"What is the traditional punishment for the crime of stalking in Quileute law?" He paced slowly in front of me, his eyes never leaving me. _So he IS wary of me._

"It used to be a physical punishment, but also public humiliation." He muttered, almost to himself, "Like the council would ever enforce that in this day and age."

"Do you mean, they used to publicly whip stalkers?" I asked, keeping my voice even.

"Yeah." he said, stopping. "Exactly. Why are you so interested?"

I was quiet for a moment, still trying to make up my mind whether or not I was actually going to propose this. _"You need to make this right, Edward..."_ My father's disappointment haunted me. _ If I could get Jacob to drop this matter, Bella might never have to know…_

"Jacob, you say the Tribal Council is 'bullshit'. So if, on Friday, they find me guilty of everything I'm accused of, you don't think their sentence will be tough enough. You will not feel it's fair. Am I interpreting correctly?"

Jacob begrudgingly agreed, "Fuck yeah."

"You and the rest of the pack will feel that the spoiled doctor's kid got off scot-free again, yes?"

He grunted in assent, smirking. Even if I hit the nail on the head, I was still his enemy. He was not going to give me the satisfaction of an answer. He was defensive, waiting for the punch line he knew had to be coming.

I took a deep shuddering breath. _This is for you, Carlisle._

"What if you carried out the sentence yourself? Would you be satisfied? Would you then let go of the incident? Would you diffuse the pack's anger against me? Would you leave my family alone?"

Jacob's mouth gaped open in undisguised astonishment for a moment, but then his face returned to its perpetual look of sullen suspicion.

"What are you trying to say?" he muttered.

I took another deep breath. _God help me._

"Judge me, not my family. I am willing to pay for my mistake. Tell me what I have to do to make this right between us. Here I am. I'm ready. Right now."

"This is a trick," he responded hesitantly, but half-belief dawned in his dark eyes.

"No trick," I said. "I will not lift a hand against you. I will not fight back." I turned my body to face him now, my arms in a gesture of openness and vulnerability at my sides, my head slightly bowed. "I am offering myself. Do what you feel you need to do to make us even."

"You are saying you would submit to being beaten?" he said incredulously. "And you would not strike back? What are you, a fucking masochist? There is no honor in that. I will fight you, though."

"I refuse to fight you." I sighed. "I might not be able to control my strength. Bella would never forgive me if I hurt or killed you."

Jacob scoffed, "I see. You just assume you would win! You have some fucking huge ego, you know that?"

"One on one, yes, there is no question I would overcome you, even in your wolf form. Me against the whole pack? I'm not so sure. But I know this." I met his eyes. "You wouldn't let them seriously hurt me. You respect Bella's desire for my safety just as I respect hers for you. You're the Beta to Sam's Alpha – the pack would obey you in this. Isn't that so?"

Jacob raised his eyebrows skeptically, not verbally acknowledging my last comment, but straightening his posture in pride at the authority he knew he wielded with his pack.

"Well, you 'refuse' to accept my challenge, so there's no way to really prove who would win, is there?"

_Talk about ego! This kid is so full of bravado. I could rip him limb from limb in a matter of seconds, and he stands here goading me like a pompous bully in a schoolyard. I could have him begging for mercy in seconds... _

"Assuming I believe you're being straight with me," he ventured scornfully, "what could assure me this is not a trick? How do I know the rest of your coven is not coming to defend you?"

_He used the word "coven." He is not as ignorant about us as he pretends to be. I wonder how much Bella has told him? What else does he, do they, know about us?_

"First, they do not know I am here with you. I came to see Bella, remember? Second, you would sense their presence long before they got close enough to be a threat. You know that to be the case from encounters in the past. Third, that would be war. We do not want war. We want to live in peace with you and with the humans.

"What insurance do I have that you will not attack one of us?"

"Just like my father, Carlisle, when I give my word, I stick to it. My word is all I have to offer you. Anyway," I looked as far as I could into the dark forest beside us. I knew the pack was fairly near. I could not see them yet, but their various scents assaulted my senses, and from several different directions. I picked up random thoughts that escaped from them, although their Alpha was commanding them to be silent and still. "With so many of you present, the advantage is clearly yours. Do I trust any of you? No. But I know that if you kill me, you will start a war you will not win.

"That's pretty presumptuous of you!" Jacob laughed. His smile was deprecating.

"You're still half-mortal." I reminded him, not without a trace of condescension in my voice. I was always getting in trouble with Carlisle for that tone in my voice, for acting like I was above everybody else. "The pack might be able to catch and kill a lone vampire like Laurent, but a coordinated fighting team like our coven? Not a chance."

"Right." Jacob laughed dismissively. "ANYway... I need to talk to the others,"

He jogged off into the heavy darkness under the trees. Though no human would have been able to detect it, I was able to discern the moment he phased from tall, sinewy boy to enormous russet-colored wolf. The shadows under the trees suddenly came alive as the pack, waiting there for Jacob this whole time, smoothly, gracefully rose to greet him.

Their unspoken group communication played in my head as they discussed my proposal. None of them trusted me, of course, but the consensus was that as long as I was alone, they should have no problem handling any threat I might pose. Sam's Alpha thoughts dominated the rest of them and made the final decision.

"I want to speak with your Alpha." I called out.

The black wolf that approached me was even larger and more wild-looking than the russet one. It bristled as it got close to me. I could hear the tension in the thoughts of the pack. It was somehow satisfying, on a primitive level, to be feared as the threat I truly could be, after spending so much time living a pallid, passive lie among unsuspecting humans.

"I want assurance from you that you and your pack will stick to your side of the bargain if I submit to this sentence. And that you will not attack me."

Sam's thoughts were clear and authoritative, a single voice cutting above the muted voices of the pack. _"If you accept the traditional sentence we will drop the matter of your unwelcome entry onto our land, and Jacob will withdraw the stalking charge. We will inform the elders. The council meeting on Friday will only be a formality. You have my word as Alpha."_

"Thank you. One more thing. Jacob must promise not to tell Bella or anyone else about what has happened or will happen between the pack and me. Nothing. No one."

The pack had heard every part of our conversation because they were party to Sam's thoughts. "Jacob gives his word." Sam concluded.

"Alright, then," I intoned. "Let's go somewhere outside of town. I will follow you."

He turned his large liquid eyes away towards the dark trees, and I followed him into the forest shadows.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Love note from an Alpha to a Beta: I wonder, do you have any idea how much I adore you? You know how important you are to making this story happen. You know how lucky I am to have your trust - and vice versa. Thank you for the confidence you've given me, the slang you've taught me (OMFG!), and the hours of your time in text & instant messaging and on the phone on my long drives to and from Los Angeles. When I'm your age (again) I hope I'm as smart as you are… - The West Coast Preacher's Kid_


	7. 7 Deliver Us From Evil

**Deliver Us From Evil **

As the wolves led me through the forest on the outskirts of Forks, I found myself observing the way they travelled as a pack. Sam did not take the lead as I had assumed - one of the younger members took point. They were obviously familiar with this course, and I soon recognized they were heading southwest in the general direction of the tribal lands.

They covered ground with a speed equal to most vampires I had run with. I was rather surprised and impressed with this fact. Since I, however, naturally ran at a much faster pace than most of my kind, I had to significantly curb my speed in order to stay with the pack.

I was relieved to note that I was able to bear the ache I had suffered with all day. The stiffness had lifted from my legs; I was grateful, no, _ecstatic_, to be running. The discomfort was a minor sacrifice when the reward was this exhilarating. Even the anxiousness at the ordeal that awaited me receded with the rush of flying though the night forest.

My internal dialog never stopped. _Bella. I'm sorry Bella. I wanted so much to see you tonight, but I need to clear the air with Jacob before I can face you. I love you. Never doubt that. Please forgive my foolish jealousy. Give me another chance. I acted without thinking when I followed you onto the Rez, and I promise you it was not because I mistrusted you. I mistrusted him, but not you, never you._

_What am I doing? Here I am putting myself in harm's way – under the thumb of the most unreliable person I can imagine... Stop analyzing, Edward. Just act. Just get through this night. This sacrifice of your pride will solve the problem you've caused. Carlisle never needs to know about this, but at the tribal hearing Friday night, things will go smoothly for you – and for him. He won't have to be ashamed. The shame will all rest on you now, and that's how it should be. Just. Get. Through. It._

I realized I knew the territory we were passing through; we had covered almost 5 miles in about 10 minutes. My brothers and I had hunted here. We were approaching the North side of the reservation border, just above where I had exited on Sunday. I slowed my pace slightly. The wolf nearest me alerted the rest, and the whole pack slowed in unison. Pack telepathy was a blessing for efficiency, but most likely a curse in terms of privacy.

"_What are you doing?"_ The red-brown wolf thought, trying to second guess me, I'm sure. I slowed even more and the pack with me.

"I won't cross the border." I stated.

"_You didn't mind so much a week ago," _Jacob growled.

"I'm not going to knowingly violate the treaty again, even with your permission."

The pack's intertwined thoughts indicated general amusement. _"We won't cross it, but we're heading for a place quite near it."_

"_Come on,"_ Sam rumbled, and they started to move forward again.

Within minutes we arrived at an open grassy area bordered on three sides by forest, the fourth side a cliff falling at least 50 yards to a stream below. I recognized the stream at the border as the pack came to a halt next to two large oaks, clearly not native to the surrounding forest. Between the oaks and the thick fern-carpeted dimness of Douglas firs, Sitka spruces and red cedars was a small structure, constructed of the wood and bark of the surrounding trees that embraced it.

Three wolves approached the shack. One entered, nosing open the makeshift door. The others stayed outside. The two outside phased into their naked human forms, then took a moment to clothe themselves in the light shorts and shirts they had carried in tight pouches on their legs. One was Jacob, the other unknown to me. A young woman emerged from the shack wearing the same minimal clothing. In one hand was a lit oil lantern, in the other, a knife and a coiled nylon rope.

I was sure the wolves could see quite well by only the silver brightness of the moon. From my medical studies I remembered the anatomy of the canine eye. There were more rods than cones in the retina, giving them less color vision, but better non-color low-light vision. No living creature's night vision rivaled ours, of course, but the canine eye was still a marvelous advantage in the natural world. Human eyes were thick with cones at the retina's center for optimum high-definition color vision. They were severely limited in low light. Without the lantern, the un-phased pack members would have had to depend on the meager available light.

The pack rested on their haunches, alert, in a formation that seemed to reflect rank or chain of command. In a semicircle around us, they were a formidable guard, their large liquid eyes shining copper from the darkness, reflecting the ochre flame of the oil lamp. Not only would they make sure I did not turn on the Quileutes who had taken human form, they would be the witnesses to my humiliation.

"Paul," Jacob said to the youth beside him. He looked older than Jacob, by a few years, his face shadowed by a scowl as he glanced over at me. "The rope." Jacob gestured upwards with his head to the oak canopy above them. "Leah, where's the knife?" He said, taking it from her and walking into the shadows in back of the shack.

Paul used the weight of the coiled rope to arc it high over a thick limb. The ease with which he performed this task again proved that the strength of these creatures was many times that of normal humans, though I doubted it even came close to the strength of my kind. The rope was meant for me. Maybe this was part of their ritual, because it was otherwise ridiculous to think I could be restrained with such a meager tether. I could have broken it with my fingers like string. I doubted even the limb of the ancient oak, as thick as a telephone pole, would hold against me, should I choose to bring it down.

The weight on my chest incrementally increased as I watched their preparations. I had trepidation, but I did not fear the wolves as much as my own resolve. My pride was fierce, my father had always told me - submission of any kind was never easy for me. I needed to go through with this, for me, for what I owed my father and my family, but that need was no business of these dogs. I would play this role - allow the pack some primitive satisfaction performing this farce - but I didn't need to emote for them. Detachment would be adequate.

I didn't dare to give thought to my privacy issues. I was terrified to be vulnerable or shamed in the presence of my own family – those who loved me. Now I faced a pack of hostile strangers. This would be the greatest sacrifice of all to my pride - the absolute crucifixion of my dignity. But I was determined to lay that on the fire if I had a chance to rectify the damage I had done.

I would not gratify them by making a sound or movement - in the unlikely event that they should actually succeed in hurting me. A vampire had had ten times the strength and endurance of these mutant humans. If I had managed to get through harsh punishment sessions with Carlisle, I could certainly get through this.

Carlisle had told me he admired the strength of my will, especially my ability to deny my most basic desires. I was able to resist human blood because I had decided to do so, like the rest of my family. But Bella was the owner of the blood most personally irresistible to my primitive nature. Carlisle had said that my success in leaving "il mio cantante" alive was unheard of among our kind. Vampires always ended up killing their "singers." They never let sentiment get in the way. It confused me that the strong will for which I was constantly chastised was also a source of pride for my father. _It is this ridiculously strong will that brings me here now, binding me to submit to tormentors who could not possibly hold me without my cooperation. _

Jacob took the knife from Leah and walked into the darkness under the old trees, his hand brushing each young sapling underneath the towering firs as he wandered among them with purpose.

The rope now in place, Paul gestured to me coldly. "Shoes," he said. The three in human form were barefoot. I slipped off my shoes and socks, tossing them aside.

"Come," he growled as he tied a slipknot in the end of the suspended fetter. My nostrils flared as I approached him, picking up the scent of his sweat. It was more animal than human, missing that distinctive acrid undertone so characteristic of human fear. His muscles were tensed, and as so many of them did the first time they came in contact with one of us, he took a step back with a combination of disgust and wariness on his bronzed features. "Shirt," he ordered.

As unused as I was to taking directives from anyone other than Carlisle, I complied without hesitation, without expression. I suppressed the impulse to react in arrogance or display embarrassment. _They may shame me, but they will not have the satisfaction of seeing me suffer from it. _

I removed my shirt, tossing the expensive linen aside carelessly as if it were no more than an old t-shirt. I put my wrists together in front of me and offered them, almost defiantly, facilitating what he had not yet requested aloud, having gleaned direction directly from his thoughts. He hesitated, unnerved at my unexpected acquiescence, then cautiously slipped the loop over my wrists and tightened it. I looked at him directly. He met my eyes briefly, but though I followed him with my gaze, he never met it again.

His thoughts were a mix of confusion and apprehension, which he tried to mask with anger. Based on instinct he was convincing himself I was a perilous enemy, though my presence before him gave no evidence that I was dangerous. He was very concerned that the pack should not see him falter or show fear. He was desperately trying to depersonalize me, thinking of me as one would a vicious, wild animal who must be dispatched. He made a few more loops and knots, firmly securing the bond. He brushed my hand with his, just once, and recoiled mentally. I smiled to myself as I noticed how he made every effort not to touch my skin again.

Backing away from me, he grasped the opposite end of the rope and pulled it taut, raising my arms above my head. He secured that end to a low branch on the oak, then stood back to critically observe his finished work and wait for Jacob's order.

Jacob emerged from the woods, carrying a few green branches of varying length and thickness. Leah mounted the lantern on an outcropping of broken branch on the oak's trunk. Jacob leaned, almost casually, against the sprawling old tree, proceeding to whittle them smooth in the amber, wavering light of the flame. The thinnest was perhaps three-quarters inch in diameter at the base, the thickest was no more than an inch, both tapering to fine, but tough, tendrils at the tips. The knife had not been the perfect tool to cut branches, thus the cut ends appeared ragged, gnawed.

Leah approached me. She observed the rope and the knots, then met my eyes directly. I held her gaze, tapping into her mind at the same time. She was more fearless than the males. There was an evident strength about her, that strength reinforced with a strain of hatred that overshadowed any I had seen in the eyes of the males, even Jacob. I was taken aback by the violence of her thoughts, so unlike other human females I had observed. This female was not one of the "gentler sex." She was a warrior; that's how she saw herself. I was surprised to see there was no fear in her thoughts, which was foolhardy but somehow understandable. Bravery is not the wisest of attributes.

"You really think these ropes will hold?" she asked Jacob, never breaking eye contact with me.

"They'll hold as long as they need to," he responded dismissively.

She came even closer to me, taking in my scent with short, soft inhalations. She did not, like the others, display the dramatic disgust at my vampire smell. She had more self-possession than the males; no hesitancy or weakness showed inward in her mind or outward in her demeanor. _She's more wild than the males. Less attached to her humanity_.

To my surprise, the same time she had the thought, she acted on it – this woman certainly did not look before she leaped. She put her face so close to mine our cheeks brushed slightly. I inhaled sharply. The vibrant heat radiating from her was the very definition of "alive" in its contrast to the glacial coolness of my unliving face.

I shivered involuntarily, off-balance that a rather more intimate part of my body awoke in response to her touch. I was not accustomed to being physically close to any woman except Bella. I felt no desire for Leah, she wasn't even beautiful to me, but my body responded unconsciously to this lone wolf-woman who kept the company of men. She withdrew her cheek, and I realized I had been holding my breath. I took the opportunity to exhale.

She circled me, examining me cautiously as the alien creature I was to her. Rather than think of her behavior as humanly impertinent, I viewed it as more animal in nature, therefore expected and justified. Unapologetic curiosity used as a survival tool. Respect mixed with awe.

The expanse of exposed skin on my bare back must have only increased the dramatic visual impact of my paleness in comparison to the tawny earth tones of her own skin. Ghostly and surreal, my whiteness made me even more of a monster to her.

Jacob finished his work on the green-branch switches, running his hands along their length to confirm their flexibility and strength. Traces of the tiny branches he had removed made the surface uneven. I suspected my flesh would taste every subtle imperfection.

"A creature like this won't even feel that," she said to him. To her I didn't even warrant a human pronoun.

"Trust me," he smiled wryly. "They feel more than you think." He met my eyes with a smug expression. Yes, he had obviously been briefed on some of the physical idiosyncracies of our kind. My confidence faltered slightly to think I had lost any advantage – especially the one of knowledge over ignorance.

Though our flesh felt hard as stone to human hands, this did not mean that flesh was unfeeling. In fact, the sensations of touch, painful or pleasurable, were as enhanced as our other senses. Our sight, hearing, smell and taste were just as amplified, if not more so, than the wolves' senses. Over-stimulation of these senses could be torture. In fact, a lot of the disorientation experienced by newborn vampires could be attributed to their unfamiliarity with these distracting new intensities.

Pain is merely the body's alarm to prevent injury. If one already knows one will heal quickly and that pain does not signal a significant threat to the safety of the body, the pain threshold is effectively raised. When Carlisle applied corporal punishment, he carefully amplified his force, knowing our pain thresholds were high. If he did not pass that threshold, the punishment would be ineffective. Carlisle's whippings could in no way be disregarded. As I had experienced today, their effect lasted for quite a while before our bodies healed.

Leah moved closer to me again, as I felt her feverish warmth on the skin of my back. Her fingertips lightly skimmed under my shoulder blades, individual coals leaving a scorched trail of sensation as her hands moved symmetrically inward to the muscles around my spine, pressing more firmly as she explored down to my hips with her smoldering touch. It was the incendiary presence of her fingers as they casually lighted that caused my breathing to become irregular. Her thoughts told me she was contrasting polished texture with unyielding substance, lost in wonder at the contradiction of nature in front of her.

Her arms moved to encircle my waist, but she intended no embrace. With confident movements she arranged a piece of buckskin around my hips, fastening it tightly in the back. She slid her hands underneath the simple loincloth to find the buttons of my jeans. _Really Jacob? Is this necessary? _Releasing them, she slipped her palms inside the waistband of my underwear and began to guide the garments down my hips and thighs. If my heart were capable of beating, it would have been audible at this point. Not only had this woman stripped me of my confidence and unbalanced my logical mind, she had now made the metaphors literal.

Which parts of these proceedings were actually written in tradition and which were merely Jacob's desire to humiliate me, I could only guess, but I had no doubt he was taking liberal advantage of the situation. _I can call a halt to this nonsense at any time, but of course he will view it as cowardice. It doesn't matter. Anything the dogs can dish out, I can take. It will be over soon. _

Leah lowered my clothing to the ground, removing one leg at a time with her burning hands. I inadvertently pulled against the rope around my wrists, causing the synthetic fibers to stretch almost to breaking, and the limb of the oak above to creak slightly. I had no doubt I could break the rope, but as yet, that was not my intention. I knew I could bear this, and more. I would let Jacob go further, indulging his illusion of control, hopefully reaching his own stopping point before I had to call a halt by resisting.

Finally, Leah reached up from behind me, placing a soft buckskin rag over my eyes, tying the ends securely behind my head. They meant to remove another advantage - my sight. They must not realize that as long as I could read their minds, I could not be blinded. Still, the psychological manipulation of it did not escape me. I was being rendered as powerless as possible.

"Paul!" Jacob ordered. Through his eyes I saw him gauge the tautness of the rope as he and Paul both pulled on it. They stopped when my arms were stretched to full extension, actually lifting my heels from the ground slightly so my weight rested only on the balls of my feet. If the intention was to handicap my balance, it succeeded. A vague unease settled on me as my muscles adjusted to the awkward position, but I bit back my emotions and made no protest.

I could tell by his scent alone Jacob was a few feet in front of me. When he started to speak, I could tell he was facing away from me. As he addressed the pack, his voice was measured, taking on a tone both solemn and authoritative. For the first time, I heard evidence of the Alpha he had been born to be.

"_Haĉh-awí._ I am Jacob, son of William Black, Quilaute chief, grandson of Ephraim Black, Quilaute chief, of the Quilaute tribe. I am descended in blood and spirit from the wolves that protect the true people of this tribe from _Chita-kíd-o,_ the cold ones."

A low rumbling sound began to rise all around me. I tried to tune in to the thoughts of the pack, and was surprised to find incoherency, a lack of language - what I found in the animals I hunted. The rumblings undulated and grew into growls that were differentiated by pitch. Soft yelping replaced a few of the growls, and yelps expanded into soft howls. The howling moved in rising waves through the pack, each wave a _crescendo_, building in volume and intensity to an alarming swell. The night around me was filled with a wall of feral sound. It was the presence of the pack, awesome in its wildness, its number, its consummate unity.

As suddenly as it had begun, as if a conductor's baton had signaled_decrescendo_, the wolves' wild chorus disintegrated into silence. Jacob spoke again.

"This _Hó-kwat_ of the enemy clan of Cullen has been accused and has confessed to the crime of stalking," the response of growls clearly expressed outrage, "defined in Quilaute law as 'poisoned love.' This crime was against me, therefore I exercise my right to administer the penalty defined in tribal law. The Hó-kwat will be punished in the presence of the tribe, confronted by the one he has offended, until, as described in the law, the offended party is satisfied, and the face of evil intention has turned away."

There were responding growls throughout the ranks.

My pride was already numb, though my body, regretfully, was not. My sense of modesty, so ingrained since human childhood a hundred years ago, seemed suspended. The sensation of viewing myself from the eyes of others as I entered their thoughts was already disorienting, making me feel as if I had left my body. I felt caught up in some sort of archetypal drama destined to be played out.

I felt his proximity; Jacob's scent was strong in front of me. I could feel and smell his over-heated breath from where he stood. I felt the thick switch, rigid and cool, pressed against my lower abdomen, just below my navel. He applied pressure with both hands, pushing my half-suspended body back an inch or so, the balls of my feet leaving the ground for a brief moment. I searched for the ground with my toes, and though I quickly found it, realized my balance was indeed tenuous. Another thing I realized with this simple gesture was that Jacob's physical strength was considerably more than I had anticipated. Those branches were substantial in weight, but he handled them as if they were mere twigs.

He stepped back from me, and proceeded to circle behind me. I swallowed, a remnant of a human reaction to uncertainty, as I prepared myself mentally for the first blow.

"You're a fool, Cullen," he murmured.

I heard his intake of breath half a second before I heard the scourge slice the air. A searing band of raw sensation cut horizontally across my back, just above my waist.

The world around me went away as my mind processed and my body experienced the pain, resisting it, yet drawing it closer to assess the damage.

When I faded back in, it was to the thoughts of the curious wolves, the individual voices unidentifiable to me. Some thoughts had tones of outrage, some of wonder.

"_That didn't hurt him!" "It didn't leave a mark!" _

Leah murmured, "Hmmm…No reaction."

Jacob's voice was flat in response to Leah's comment. "He felt it. Trust me."

"No blood, no welts," reasoned Leah.

"Yeah," said Jacob. "But that doesn't mean they're immune to pain."

"_This is wrong. We should not be doing this. The elders would not approve." _It was ayoung voice, almost drowned out by the others' noise.

"_You ready for more, bloodsucker?"_ Jacob baited me in his head. _"Think you can take it?" _He had taken my own sight with the blindfold, but I could see through his eyes - but only as his brain interpreted what was before them. I saw my naked back, as he mentally took aim.

The rod came down with a loud crack on my lower back, right above the tied strip of deerskin, the green bough flexing at the curve of my hip with the force of the impact, the thin tip wrapping around to bite the flesh of my side. I took in a sharp breath, held it, but succeeded in making no other sound.

_Can't let them see…hear…know… that I feel…_

Jacob was hardening his resolve. He was convinced the strokes were affecting me even if the others present did not. He allowed his tightly leashed hatred to animate his limbs as he prepared his assault. He struck again, this time my upper back, then backhanded another stroke, crossing the previous one. I groaned inwardly, but allowed no expression to cross my features, no hint of complaint or discomfort to exit my lips.

He circled me, pacing slowly.

How many times had I been down this path with Carlisle, keeping silent by sheer force of will as he administered punishment? My ersatz, but worthy, father had always known my game, knew how long to persist until he bent my iron pride. Carlisle drew an intimidating line, never letting up until I willingly crossed it, to surrender to a will not my own, to set me free of the tyranny of my obsessive, immature mind. Carlisle pushed until I broke down - in tears or otherwise – showing a sign of relinquishing my pride and guilt.

But I was not in the hands of my forgiving father now. This boy was quite literally, my "mortal" enemy. Pride was his demon too, and that likeness was probably the basis of the instinctive hatred between us. I could not believe Jacob's true intent was to destroy me, only to assuage his bitterness over Bella. I did not believe Jacob to be evil. I felt sorry for him that she had not chosen him, yet I thanked everything that is that she HAD chosen me.

Jacob's aggression was fed as he reveled in the physical and psychological abasement of a being he clearly envied. Visual snippets of the extremes of hurt and humiliation he would dearly love to inflict upon me flashed through his mind, and I was reminded of a thousand daydreams in which I captured him, fed off him, then removed all traces of him from this earth.

Jacob taunted me. _"If you're going to invade my head, I should at least make it worth your while!"_ He knew I was listening, knew his thoughts injured me as deeply as the carefully aimed weapon in his hand. Out of his wolf form, his thoughts were contained in his own head, not shared with the pack or the other two humans. The depth of his vituperation was private from everyone but me, so he let the poison stream of his grudge flow to me unrestrained on our private psychic line.

_He's hotheaded and immature. His emotions rule him. Is that how others see me, I wonder? Are we alike in those respects? How awful. One thing is for sure, though - what he is doing now to me, I would never do to him._

The pain of the blows was not slight, but I had felt worse in the past. The muscles of my back throbbed, mixed with stinging where the tip had bitten my skin. My body showed no marks, as a blood-filled human body would, but the pain was no less than a human would feel. The dull ache from the morning was re-awakened, adding yet another layer of affliction.

I saw the intention of the next two strokes before he delivered them, in quick succession, on either side of my ribcage. My breath caught. I closed my mind momentarily to focus on governing the pain, so I did not anticipate the next blow. It landed hard on my front abdomen, below my navel, knocking the breath from my lungs as my diaphragm contracted. _Ugh... that was literally below the belt, you little shit_… My reaction, the first he had detected, energized him.

There was nothing but the censure of the pack to stop him from going beyond the bounds of morality and fair play, and they weren't particularly concerned about normal rules when applied to monsters. That is how they seemed to view me. I was a thing, not a person. All but Jacob. He viewed this non-person very personally.

"_What are you doing, Jacob?"_ Sam's inner voice filtered through the murmuring wolf thoughts. Sam, not so ruled by his emotions, did not seem to be comfortable with Jacob's emotional excesses. It wasn't quite mercy, but Sam seemed to have a maturity that allowed him to objectify me less.

"_I am within my rights,"_ thought Jacob defensively. He couldn't hear Sam telepathically, but despite his renegade bravado, he intuited his Alpha's dissent.

Jacob landed another wild strike to my abdomen, just above the last one. My toes pushed up on point on the ground. Again, my reaction fueled him.

The blows came faster now, re-striking areas already sore and stinging. My breathing was labored; soft moans came up unbidden and I did not stop them. The persistent pain pushed me towards a tipping point. Self-pity flared, and my composure faltered.

_I was wrong. How could I have thought this would solve anything? Carlisle can never know I allowed Jacob to take advantage of me in this way. Never. I couldn't face him. He would be so ashamed of me – as ashamed as he is that I broke the treaty. Me, of all people. Me! He put so much trust in me. I have failed my leader, my father, my friend – and myself. I am stupid and weak, fatally flawed and unfixable! I am not fit to stand next to Carlisle. _

All thought was occluded by my doubt and disgust. I could not spare the focus to read their minds. The demands upon my battered nerve endings filled every remaining space in my brain. There was no Jacob, no wolves, not even an Edward. The wilderness of my self-imposed misery enveloped me, and I pulled away within myself to try to escape as the pain closed in.

What had occurred that morning in that terrible session with Carlisle, when lack of control became panic – mercifully occurred again. I felt myself withdraw from the immediate sensations of my body to a place objective, removed, observational. I had disassociated again, my mind refusing to deal with my body's present distress. The babblings of my mind became muted, then ceased; No other thoughts invaded that silence. My mind went numb, as my body anesthetized itself against trauma.

Carlisle face and scent flashed through my consciousness, and I longed for his assurance, both mental and physical. However, some remnant of my logical mind reminded me, I had chosen to put myself outside my father's dominion, and what I bore, I would bear alone to be worthy of his name.

_The jealousy, the rivalry, has to stop. It has hurt everyone I love, including Bella. I have to forgive Jacob, then somehow forgive myself. It doesn't matter if he doesn't forgive me back. I will make the first gesture. It's what Carlisle would do. I've come this far, I might as well finish._ _I will forgive him._

The blows ceased. "What's with the light?" Jacob said.

That's all it took to usher me gasping back to reality. Entering Jacob's mind again, I could see through his eyes that the lantern glowed dimly, the flame low. Seeing through his human eyes, my vision was also limited.

"No more oil," Leah responded.

"Doesn't matter. We don't need it," he growled.

He delivered two more strokes, the hardest yet, to my mid back. I arched my spine with each one, groaning.

"_Enough!"_ Sam commanded. _"The pack is satisfied the sentence has been carried out according to the law."_

Through Jacob's eyes I saw Sam stand. Through Jacob's mind, I knew Jacob understood Sam's wordless displeasure. "Where are you going?" Jacob said to Sam.

Sam turned to the pack. _"Fall back into the forest."_ The wolves rose from their ranks, and began moving towards the trees.

"I am not yet satisfied," Jacob said to Sam, squaring his shoulders defensively. "You have to stay," sulked Jacob, "to guard, to witness."

"_No,"_ Sam conveyed to the pack. _"This cold one will not hurt Jacob. We will stay close by, but we will witness no more under the excuse of tribal justice_."

Sam turned as he walked away, gesturing with his head to Leah and Paul._ "Coming?" _he thought. Though they could not hear his thoughts in their human forms, they seemed to understand their Alpha's intentions_._

Without hesitation, Paul loped towards the trees behind the retreating pack, phasing and blending into their numbers. Leah however, did not move to follow.

"I choose to stay," she stated. I tuned in to her thoughts, which were intensely, almost painfully emotional and strangely non-verbal. Underneath I sensed her fierce passion for Sam, but seething resentment too. I felt her rebellion towards him as her Alpha, but her inability to disobey him. Uppermost in her mind was her loyalty to Jacob then a loathing and derision for me, the perceived enemy.

"_As you wish,"_ Sam allowed as he merged into the darkness with the pack.

I watched from her mind as she approached me. There was still not a trace of healthy fear in her, even though she and Jacob were now alone with me.

As she observed me, still blind and bound, her perception was of a creature - disgusting by its very nature and hideous in its ugliness, yet irresistibly fascinating. She stood behind me, raising her hands parallel to but not touching the skin of my back. Again, the furnace heat of her body radiated onto my too-cold flesh. I shuddered at the contrast. Her touch burned me, but I craved more. She pressed her fingers into my back at the location of Jacob's last blow, apparently memorized because there was no stripe to indicate the location. I gasped as she pressed, intensifying the pain already nesting there under my skin. She smiled to herself, a "doubting Thomas" needing to touch the wounds to finally convince herself of the effectiveness of the natural scourge on my unnatural frame.

Without the lantern light and the presence of the pack, the night suddenly seemed extraordinarily empty. The breeze held its breath; the night sounds of the forest seemed suspended in muted anticipation.

Jacob approached me from behind. I saw the image of the knife in his hand, heard his intention to cut the rope. He stepped behind me, leaning in close, easily reaching with both long arms to press the blade to the cord. But he did not cut. He lowered his right arm, letting the blade drag lightly across the back of my neck.

"The bearer of poisoned love, that's what you truly are," he growled behind clenched teeth. "You've trespassed on more than my land, and my mind, you have seduced my Bella as you seduce your prey, poisoned her against me, the mate nature intended for her. You've violated not only tribal law but the laws of nature.

"I would say you deserve to die, but, that's a done deal, isn't it Dead Boy? What you can really offer her? It certainly isn't life, is it? She will lose her life. You intend to kill her. You will change her into the horror you are. You hate what you are, but you will make her the same? Your 'feelings' for her are nothing but 'hunger.' That is not love; that is need. The word 'monster' doesn't even come close to describing the curse you are."

He paused, then hissed a single word into my ear, "Murderer!"

The skin of my back burned furiously, but my brain burned hotter with the echoes of his accusations. _"You intend to kill her… Murderer…" _

_I will never make anything right again. I have betrayed my father and my family and in the end, I will be forced to betray my Bella too. It doesn't matter that it will her choice to be turned. I am still a murderer. I wish Jacob could kill me. When I thought Bella was dead, I wanted to die. I know now that she is alive, and I know I should die - to keep her alive._

He still toyed with the blade against the skin of my neck. "I know you don't bleed. I wonder what would happen if…" he applied pressure to the point of the blade. It did not cut my tough skin. "Interesting," he mused, "I'm sure you know the damage this blade could do to one of us…though we heal pretty quickly too…" I suffered his gloating as he exercised his control over me. But his dominance was an illusion. I could free my hands and bite through his spine before he had the chance to use the knife, not that it could do much damage to me that wouldn't heal.

Jacob tensed. Through his eyes, I saw a light-colored wolf hurtling at him from the woods. I felt a dull pain in my wrists, a jerk, a snap, and I lost Jacob's thoughts. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, my mouth full of dirt. I heard a human shout of anger, then a scuffle, then growls. I pulled the blindfold off clumsily with my tied hands. With my own night vision restored, I clearly saw Leah running in the direction the pack had taken, phasing as she disappeared into the trees. The scent of wolf was strong around me, and I turned at the sound of growls behind me. Two wolves circled each other to my right, teeth bared. One was definitely Jacob, but the other, smaller, thinner one I did not know.

"_Seth! This is none of your business!"_ Jacob snarled at the challenger.

"_You've gone too far! Both of you!"_ Seth shouted telepathically. It was the youthful voice I had heard amongst the babble of the pack earlier. "_Our fathers would not accept this behavior! You know that!" _

"_Get back to the pack!" _Jacob warned. _"Before I do something I'll regret."_

"_Stop Jacob! You can't kill this one! It will be war! Stop now!"_

Jacob leaped at Seth, hitting him hard in the shoulder, causing the young one to yelp. They tumbled once, then stopped, panting, the larger, stronger wolf standing dominating the smaller cowering one.

"_Sam's pissed at you!"_ Seth said.

Jacob backed away from Seth, never taking his eyes off the young one, a low guttural rumble coming from him that vibrated the very ground underneath us.

"_Sam knows I'm not going to kill him, you stupid pup! I was just making him show some respect!"_

Jacob grasped my shoulder with his teeth, and started to drag me. Seth remained in a low cowering position, but began to creep forward along the ground.

I suddenly realized Jacob was pulling me towards the edge of the cliff. I strained at the rope around my wrists, breaking it to release my hands. I grabbed at Jacob's head, grabbing handfuls of fur and twisting. I didn't want to hurt him badly, I held back, just trying to make him let go. He growled angrily, but he would not release his hold. I was still somewhat disoriented, but clarity was descending fast. He dragged me to the edge, and I could hear the stream below as I reached upwards, the heel of my open palm connecting hard with his snout. I heard a crack, then a whimper, and he let go of me. I moved with vampire speed out of his range, backing away from the cliff.

"_Son of a-"_ I heard Jacob raging at me, as a blur of sand-coloured fur hurled itself at Jacob, knocking him off balance. The biting and snarling went on until Jacob threw Seth off of him. They both stood up, panting, shaking themselves.

"_You are as irritating as your crazy sister…"_ Jacob complained to Seth, the anger now gone from his inner voice.

"_Love you too, bro!"_ Seth said. He turned to me. _"Go, Edward."_

I limped back over to the oak tree, collecting my soiled, discarded clothes. Every muscle ached. _I'm bruised from my neck to my knees._ I put them on as quickly as I could.

The russet wolf approached me. I looked up at him from where I painfully knelt, tying my shoes. "This is the end of it, then." I said. "You and your pack will keep your promise."

He snorted. _"Yes. Just stay off our damn land."_

"I will respect the boundaries of the treaty in future," I said humbly.

"_You'd better,"_ he scoffed. He turned tail and took off into the darkness to join the pack.

I pulled my cell phone from my jeans pocket. The satellite time read eleven fifty-five. _Oh God, the shit just gets deeper. One text message from Bella. Nothing from Carlisle - yet._

I took my bearings and set off at a run towards Forks. I proceeded at half my usual speed; every movement was excruciating.

_This is going to take a lot longer than I planned, and it is almost twelve o'clock now._ _Should I stop and try to call Carlisle? Not a good idea. What could I say without lying? He is NOT going to accept lateness on top of everything else. Maybe I should go straight home and say I had to come home on foot because I had car trouble? With my luck this past week, if I tried to lie, I'm sure it would backfire and I'd get the strap again. But I can't tell him the truth, can I? He said that if I violate this grounding I will get the punishment I deserve. I can't take any more!_

I finally reached the crest of the last hill before descending into Forks. The lights of the town spread east as far as I could see. Bella's house was very near. I stopped to check my phone. Twelve twenty two. No more messages.

_Can you say "Bad karma"? Leave it to me to set a new record! Looks like I'm gonna get three whippings in one 24-hour period!_

There was no point in rushing now. It was a done deal. My head was on the block yet again. As I approached Bella's house, I looked longingly at her back bedroom windows. I wouldn't be seeing the inside of her room for a very long time. I imagined her there, warm in her tiny bed, missing me, hopefully, as much as I missed her.

As I stepped into the street in front of her house, I turned to the right to walk down the road to my car. I heard his voice in my head at the same moment I realized - my car was gone.

"_Let's see now, what's the colloquial phrase?… Ah, yes - "Your ass is mine!"_

There was a black Mercedes parked where my car had been, and leaning against the trunk, legs crossed casually as if he was just there to enjoy the stars on this rare clear night in Forks, was Carlisle.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Had he been in my place, and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would have raised a hand against him. You may look incredulous, if you please! I never would have banished him from her society, as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would have torn his heart out, and drunk his blood! But, till then, if you don't believe me, you don't know me - till then, I would have died by inches before I touch__ed a single hair of his head!" _-Heathcliff, Wuthering Heights

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Key to the actual Quileute language words Jacob uses:

**Haĉh-awí** = good night/good evening. **Chita-kíd-o** = a killer. **Hó-kwat** = a non-Indian.

**Trespass Chapter 7 ****99**


	8. 8 His Will Be Done & Mother of Mercy

**His Will Be Done**

(Edward's POV)

I had to will my feet to keep moving towards Carlisle, closer to what would inevitably be a very bad ending to what was already one of the worst days of my so-called life.

Carlisle's mind was vaulted, a silent blank.

His eyes never left my face, his expression completely serene as I stepped over that invisible line that put me completely in his domain again. The mantle of his protection covered me; the noose of accountability tightened. I couldn't maintain eye contact, I was too flustered. Gone was the independent man I had been for the last few hours, nobly sacrificing by my own free will, making decisions on behalf of my family by my own initiative… _Ridiculous…_ One glimpse of Carlisle I had in seconds reverted to the impetuous boy that made the wrong choices over and over, who repeatedly endangered his exasperated family, who was destined yet again to be shamed under the chastising thumb of a disappointed father.

Carlisle said nothing, just turned and walked to the driver's side. As he got in, his look said it all. The expression in his eyes was a familiar mixture of hurt and irritation, the badge of suffering Edward-the-problem-child had yet again pinned to this blameless man's longsuffering breast.

I lingered in back of the car in the still, dark road - my mind going through the circuit it always ran when I was trapped. _I could run. _No matter how many times I had been in this situation with my father, no matter how many times I debated the pros and cons of running away from him or facing him, I always ended up choosing to face him. Nevertheless – I always allowed myself the fantasy, the vain hope, that I could escape my fate. No matter how eternally pointless, I always considered running.

Reluctantly, against every natural impulse, I forced my protesting legs to take me forward to the passenger side of the car. _Humans get to grow out of this stage in life. At some point they no longer have to answer to a parent. Will there always be this weight of obligation? Will I forever be in submission to someone else? 'It may be the Devil or it may be the Lord… ya gotta serve somebody'… _I got into the car.

My body violently objected to the new sitting position, though the soft leather seats were luxuriously plush. I bit back a moan as my back touched the seat. The soundproof door of the high-end vehicle clicked shut. The sudden silence was oppressive. It was just him and me. It was claustrophobic.

Carlisle was studying me, his eyebrows raised in wordless questioning, the expression in his eyes now unreadable – yet somehow more intimidating than before.

I finally found some semblance of a voice. "My car?"

"_Alice." _

I nodded at his silent answer and looked down at my hands_. Of course. He had arrived bearing Alice and my spare keys. She had driven my car home at his request._ _Alice always gets called up for the delicate jobs – she already knows all the whys, wheres and hows anyway. Oh God. Alice. How much had Alice seen? How much had she told him? Just enough to allow him to know I would show up here? More? Would Carlisle insist she tell him more? No – unless he thought I was in danger… and Alice wouldn't offer to tell any more than she had to... that's how it's always been… she hates to be in the middle of other people's business because of her gift… but would she dare refuse if he asked her directly?_

"_Edward." _

He reeled my attention back in._ Focus Edward..._ I told myself. _Tread very, very carefully now._

"Well, let's hear it," he said out loud.

I looked forward out the window, monitoring him carefully in my peripheral vision.

"I'm assuming you weren't hunting - though you probably need to." I was surprised there wasn't more sarcasm in his tone. I was surprised. As angry as he must be, he still worried if I had fed.

"Didn't Alice tell you where I was?" I ventured.

He shook his head in disappointment. _Wrong answer!_ I thought.

"Edward, you know better. I don't care what Alice saw or said. I want to hear it from _you_, not Alice. For your own sake, this had better be good! And true. And _complete_."

I shuddered. If he knew what I had really done, who knows how he would react? I hadn't followed chain of command. In time, he might come to understand, but right now, I knew nothing I did would be right in his eyes. Not knowing what he already might have heard, I couldn't tell him anything. If I didn't say anything I was doomed automatically. I closed my eyes, my voice paralyzed.

"You made me a promise, Edward. You were to go to Bella's and be home by midnight. You told me you clearly understood. Yet, I find out you did not go see Bella at all. Instead, you took off into the forest, and because you were off Alice's radar for over three hours, she assumed you were with one of the wolves."

_Of course! Alice wouldn't have been able to see anything from the time I arrived at Bella's until I left the clearing. __She couldn't see anything when the wolves were involved!_

"From Alice I knew, one, you had not seen Bella and, two, you had left the area without my permission. That was enough to bring me out here. And then you were late, so you were busted three ways.I gave you my trust, and you betrayed me the first chance you got!" He looked up at the ceiling. _"I wonder, did you even hesitate to disobey? Perhaps that I-need-so-badly-to-see-Bella act at home was just Edward playing Dad for a fool? Did you congratulate yourself on how easy it was to manipulate me?"_

"Oh, God, no! I would never…"

"Right, Edward! Give me a break!" He said with disgust. I looked down in embarrassment. I couldn't say I hadn't tried such tactics in the past.

"You can't even offer an excuse?"

"You don't like excuses," I responded reflexively.

"I would _not_ advise sarcasm right now." Carlisle snapped, his eyes sparking dangerously in the half-light, his tone low and deadly.

"No sir, definitely not." I said softly, lowering my head. _Don't miscalculate his mood again, Edward._ Hoping I was using my 'zero attitude' voice, I added, "Honestly, I didn't mean to worry or offend you. I didn't mean to be late."

We sat in silence for an uncomfortable minute.

"You're going to force me to ask the obvious? Don't you think you owe me an explanation? What came up that was more important than keeping your word to me?"

_Everything I say is going to sound wrong, but here goes._

"Carlisle, I came out here with every intention of seeing Bella. I wouldn't lie about that." I looked straight at him with as much sincerity as I could muster. "I needed to see her. I still need to see her. I want to see her more than you can…" my voice broke with emotion, "imagine." Carlisle had the grace to look away as I got control of myself. "But then…something came up that I couldn't ignore."

"Jacob," he said, his voice flat. The mordant inquisitor turned to examine me again.

He leaned back on the headrest, perfectly still, not even pretending to breathe; he kept his eyes trained on mine, unblinking - there were no unnecessary human gestures needed between the two of us.

_"Yes, undeniably, you're in trouble, but don't underestimate my capacity to understand, son. Try me."_

"I don't want to lie to you." I said, ashamed to hear the pleading in my voice. The emotional discomfort in my chest suddenly rivaled the physical pain in my back. Meeting his gaze was agony.

He cocked one eyebrow. "Well, that's refreshing! It seems this morning's lesson is sticking with you!"

_He seems to read my mind at times. My emotions must be so evident on my face. Or is it just that he knows me better than I know myself? What can I say to you Carlisle? I can't risk lying to you, but if I'm honest … I could be in deeper shit. If I tell you who but not why, then I'm guilty of withholding the whole truth again_. _You already think I lied to you to get out of the house. You think I blatantly defied you. It's not like that. I had to do what I did. I just can't imagine you will understand that. Would you understand I did it for all of us, but especially for you? Now that I've been caught out of line, any defense I present just sounds like lie upon lie…_

Who knows what he saw in my face, but his expression softened slightly. He was waiting for my answer.

_"You would prefer to say nothing and suffer the consequences of disobedience? This isn't like you, Edward. I'm assuming you thought you had a good reason for breaking a promise. You don't want to even let me try to understand? You can't be in any worse trouble than you are already. What have you got to lose?"_

_Ah. He really does mean to carry out his earlier threat. Can I take another thrashing today? Time to man-up, I've got nothing to lose now!_ I cleared my throat.

"With all respect, Carlisle, there are some things a man has to keep private."

"A 'man'?" Carlisle threw his head back with a grimace. _ "_I don't know what to say to that right now, I really don't."

_OK, that was unnecessarily hurtful, Carlisle. You have __no__ idea what I've been through tonight. _I was overcome with self-pity, but anger too, curling myself into the seat, staring out my window.

Carlisle started the car and pulled off the shoulder of the road. As soon as we passed the last residence, he increased his speed and started to speak again. There was a familiar lecturing tone and rhythm to his voice that usually led up to… _oh God not again!_ a session in his study bending over his desk. I thought back on the ordeal I had just faced in the forest, and I was amazed that I felt worse at this moment, sitting in disgrace next to my father, than I had felt in the presence of my enemies. _He has a knack for unnerving me like no other..._

"Just to be perfectly clear, Edward, 'men' are not grounded by their fathers."

…_and certainly do not receive whippings from their fathers... _I thought bitterly.

"When you are on restriction like this, you have no right to privacy. You are in _my_ view on _my_ time. You are accountable _to_ me because I am accountable _for_ you."

_Here we go, the Carlisle accountability lecture!_

"But I'm not going to lecture you on what you already know. What was the last thing I said to you before you left the house?"

"If I violate my grounding, I will get the full punishment you think I deserve," I murmured. I couldn't look at him.

"If you won't talk to me, you leave me no other option, Edward."

I sighed and twisted my body in the seat until I had my back to him, shutting him out.

"I want an answer, Edward. Were you with Jacob?"

"Yes." I said finally. It was pointless to deny that fact. He and Alice knew I had been with one or more of the wolves. "We talked." This was the truth. It hadn't been a friendly talk, but we had spoken. "I apologized."

"Hmmm…" he said thoughtfully with a hint of surprise. "How did that go?"

"I… I think he's not as angry now. He got to vent some of his anger." _That's for fucking sure…_

"And you thought this would perhaps change the outcome of the hearing on Friday?"

"It can't hurt, if, as you think, the wolves are nursing a grudge."

We covered another black mile in silence. I gazed at the strip of brilliant stars above our heads, framed by the contrasting darkness of the thick night forest on either side of the road. I smiled ruefully as the cliché human phrase came to mind - _I will be the death of him… _He cleared his throat to re-focus my attention. I was careful to give it to him.

"Edward. I'd like to believe what you are telling me, but so many things don't add up. It wasn't just that you were late, Edward. You were gone for hours. Alice saw you returning - running East. She said it was a long way. Why would you have to go so many miles out just to talk? Look at your clothes! I've seen you take down game and remain spotless! How did that happen if you were just talking? You fought with him, didn't you?"

"No!" I was so relieved to be able to tell the truth without reservation. "Absolutely not. I did not fight. He's Bella's friend. I don't want to hurt him. It would hurt her."

"Then, you fought with someone else? With one of the wolves? How do you explain your clothes?" Carlisle was beyond disgusted with me.

"No. I swear I didn't fight anyone or anything." _That's for sure. If I hadn't submitted, I would have dead wolves to show for my efforts!_

"Damn Edward! I'm not going to sit here and play twenty-questions with you!" I squeezed my eyes shut as the pyroclastic flow of his vexation broke over me. "Either you choose to come clean with me now or you choose to face the consequences!"

I couldn't answer him. What he wanted and what I wanted were at war in me. His sideways glance was incendiary - as harsh as a slap to the face. I visualized his anger sucking the oxygen out of the air around us like a hungry flame. I was suffocating. I pulled myself together and said the only thing left to say.

"No."

For a moment he did not react at all. Then, he slammed on the brakes.

The tires screamed, and so did I, and so did every bruised muscle in my body as I was thrown against the dashboard. The Mercedes started to spin as it slid to the other side of the road, but Carlisle deftly steered out of the skid. He fishtailed, but finally brought the heavy German car to a stop straddling the double yellow line, facing backwards 180 degrees towards Forks. The engine died.

I looked at him, aghast. "What the hell, Carlisle!" I wanted to yell at him, but my voice only croaked. My hands were shaking. My chest was fluttering. If I were breathing I would have been hyperventilating. There was a dent in the dash board where my shoulder had made impact. Of course I hadn't been wearing a seatbelt. Of course, he had.

His mouth was set in a hard line, his arms tense, his hands gripping the wheel so hard I expected to hear the sound of the steering column cracking. He was frozen, his right foot still fully extended on the brake. I felt my body press against the door, instinctively trying to escape from the volatile pressure I felt building inside him.

He didn't look at me. He consciously relaxed his arms and legs, but continued to hold me in terrified check with the coiled spring of his displeasure. He shifted to Park, then slowly reached for the ignition key. He started the engine, shifted into Drive and edged forward cautiously.

As we crept back toward Forks he gradually composed himself. I could feel liquid accumulating in my eyes. I couldn't tell if it was relief or fear rushing over me. It didn't feel safe to speak. I put on my seat belt, glancing at him every few seconds to assess his mood.

To my surprise, he slowed and eased the Mercedes off the road. In the dimness, I could see there was a parting of the trees - a dirt road leading through it to open space. Carlisle drove through, leaving the road behind us.

Once in the meadow, he drove until we could not be seen from the road. Out from underneath the forest canopy, there was a fair amount of available light from the descending moon – more than enough for us to see clearly in the night. He stopped the car, shut off the engine and opened his door. In the next second, he was opening mine.

"Get out," he commanded.

I clicked open my seat belt, lifted myself stiffly from the seat and stood. I slid across the car's sleek side, backing away from him warily. I had the eerie impression that the Carlisle I had known for nine decades was not there at that moment. I was seeing an unpredictable foreign vampire who was not only stronger than I, but who was seeing me as a problem. A graceful hand pushed the door closed with a click. In a flash he was in front of me, too close, looking slightly down at me from his superior height. I fought panic. I held my breath.

"Surely I don't have to tell you what is in store for you at home tonight after your little detour?" he said softly.

There was no menace in his voice, but I was petrified. I didn't have to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. I knew better than anyone when Carlisle had been pushed too far. I never wanted to be the reason for that extreme.

"No." I whispered.

"Maybe I should take care of you right now, right here, before we go home," he continued softly. "That way you don't have to worry about the others being in the house."

I couldn't stifle the soft whimper that escaped me. "Just give me a chance to think, OK?"

"You need to _think_ what the truth is?" he volleyed, shaking his head. "You don't _know_?"

"Stop twisting my words!"

Suddenly his hands were on my shoulders, and he was pinning me to the side of the vehicle. I moaned as he pressed the tender spots under my shoulder blades hard into the chrome trim.

"Fine!" I cried. "Why don't you just 'take care of me now'! Get it over with!"

He grabbed my left shoulder and spun me around roughly. My hands slipped down the slope of the back window as he dragged me face down onto the trunk. His iron hand braced the back of my neck, making my body immobile with the weight of his own. My cheek was crushed against the sleek black surface. He was compressing my chest so hard I could not fill my lungs, so I couldn't continue my vocal protest.

The pangs in my ribs were amplified from the pressure of his chest on my chest. Daggers shot through my arms, still sore from being over-extended when I had been suspended earlier. He grabbed my wrists, holding my hands flat to the car's surface above my head. I groaned aloud as my joints silently shrieked.

"Is this what you want?" he hissed, his lips right behind my ear. He leveraged his hip against my back to hold me in place, lifting off of me slightly so I could inhale to answer him. I yelped when he released my chest. I couldn't answer him. I couldn't speak.

My body rebelled against me. My knees started to buckle, but I locked them, forcing myself not to collapse. I panted as I waited for the blaze around my lungs to subside. I twisted my head to look back at him in one last frantic attempt to communicate with him before he delivered fresh pain to my already battered body.

What I saw froze the words at my lips.

Carlisle's demeanor had abruptly changed. The personality I recognized as my father had returned to inhabit his features. He released my wrists, slowly sweeping his hands up my arms towards my shoulders. His thumbs found the tender tendons around my elbows and outlined my bruised biceps in a smooth, practiced motion. He lifted me firmly, but gently, to a standing position and turned me to face him.

The hands that had just handled me so irascibly were re-possessed by the serene surgeon. They touched me with purpose and care. He examined my agonized face with a physician's eyes, noting each involuntary flinch as he moved his hands in tandem down my chest, pressing gently but precisely. I tensed as he explored. I closed my eyes to hide the fear of discovery I could not hope to escape now.

He raised my shirt to look at the afflicted areas as he would with a human patient, but of course, there was nothing to see but the usual unblemished pallor of perfect skin. Without hesitation he unfastened my jeans, pushing them aside to advance his palms across my hips. I caught my breath sharply and my eyes flew open when he palpated my lower abdomen. I ground my teeth together to keep from crying out as his hands passed over the deep, invisible bruises Jacob's anger had left smoldering there.

He grasped my hips and turned me away from him again. He raised my grimy shirt to run his cool hands down the course of my back in the same manner. I winced as his expert fingers dipped into the hidden rivers of pain underneath the undisturbed surface of my skin. My memory flashed to Leah's heat, so sensuously traveling that same path across my flesh. I yielded to him completely, a mute doll with no will of its own.

"What are you doing?" I whispered hoarsely.

"Taking care of you now," he answered as he focused on his examination.

By all the subtle and not so subtle signals my body and my responses gave up to him, the healer he so intrinsically was uncovered the damage that extended to nearly every part of my body. I had not told him anything, but without words, he had collected enough of an answer to cause him to reconsider his assumption of my deceit.

"What happened to you, son?" he murmured. "You swore to me you didn't fight."

I raised my head to look at him. "I didn't fight." Venom clouded my eyes. "I didn't fight _back_."

He was still, so still. His eyes glistened. "Let's go home."

o- o- o- o

When we reached the house, Carlisle silently ordered me to my room. I nodded at Esme in the living room, intercepting her unspoken questions about my appearance, then proceeded up the stairs slowly. I was stiff from the ride home, my body sore, my skin still raw.

I gingerly got undressed, now properly seeing the state my clothes were in. I tossed the linen shirt into the trash can – it was beyond laundering, beyond salvage. A hot bath sounded like heaven, but I doubted I would be allowed that luxury right now. I slipped on sweats and a t-shirt then stood at the window to wait for my father.

o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o- o

**Mother of Mercy **

(Esme's POV)

Not that I didn't hear the Mercedes pull up to the house, but it wasn't until they opened the front door that my excitement quickened as their scents announced them. As singular as the sound of a voice, each of my four beloved men had their own unique fragrance. But, undeniably, there was something distinctly alluring about my husband's scent that moved me beyond reason. I stirred from my comfy armchair, my body pulled upwards in anticipation of his presence in the room.

My sweet, sad son stepped into the living room first. His proud shoulders were slumped and his head bowed in disgrace. Whatever they had discussed in the car on the way home, it was evident his father already had the upper hand. Carlisle had gone to fetch Edward from Bella's because he was late returning, and in being late, had broken a solemn promise to his father. The whole time Carlisle was gone, I had feared he would _not_ find Edward, but equally feared that he _would_. I feared the consequences Edward would face when his father caught up with him. At least Carlisle wasn't angry when he left; that was a small consolation.

My husband entered the room after him. I immediately assessed his body language as tensely controlled, frustrated and worried. He looked at me and grimaced, his eyes as sad as Edward's. He shook his head, his gaze wearily following his son's retreat.

Edward nodded at me, unspeaking, barely meeting my eyes, as he moved stiffly towards the staircase. I sent a worried, questioning look to Carlisle. _Good grief!_ _He's filthy! What happened? _Edward caught my eye sharply as he turned on the landing. He had heard that thought. He continued upwards and out of our sight.

Conversely immaculate and unruffled, my mate came over to greet me with a kiss. He sat on the arm of my chair in silence for a moment.

"He's completely shut down." Carlisle whispered softly, making sure his voice would not be heard by other sensitive ears in the house**.**

I paused to interpret his comment. Edward must be keeping secrets again. "Want me to talk to him?" I offered. For all their closeness, Carlisle and Edward sometimes reached impossible impasses in communication - their similar pride, intellect and will warring and unyielding.

Carlisle searched my face. "You might as well try. If neither one of us can get the story out of him, I'm going to have to carry out my threat of further punishment for violating his grounding. I don't want to do that." He pulled my face towards him gently with the tips of his fingers, his beautiful eyes mournful and weary. "I really don't."

_But that doesn't stop you from hurting him,_ I thought**,** frowning. "Carlisle, no matter what happens, you will _not_ punish that boy again today. Do we understand each other?" He didn't answer. Annoyingly, he changed the subject.

"Edward makes scathing comments sometimes. I doubt he realizes how deeply he wounds me... It's always a test of wills with him. I can't baby him, Esme. As much as I would enjoy that, it's not my role. It's not what he needs from me. I have to help him mature. You have more leeway, you can show more affection. In a way, your "children" will always be just that - children. Edward won't push you away like he does me…

"Carlisle. Acknowledge that you heard me. Not again today."

"I hear you." He held out his arms to me.

I stood and held him, breathing in his essence, loving the feel of this powerful yet gentle, primal yet sophisticated being in my arms. "Let's go upstairs," I whispered. "I'll go to him. You go to your room."

"How about you come with _me_ to o_u_r room first?" He said under his breath. "I need you too."

"I won't be long." I told him. "Then I'm all yours."

"Hmmm…" he intoned with dissatisfaction, nuzzling the back of my neck. "Alright. I can wait….but I've still got to have a long, tough talk with the boy before morning."

He held me away from him by my arms. "Block your thoughts," he whispered intently. "You can. You must. Don't let him take advantage of you."

"I'll try."

Carlisle left me on the second landing, and I turned away from my own room to go to Edward's room on the other side of the third floor. I laid my hand gently on the door. There was no need to knock. "Come in Mom," I heard from within. Evidently I was not completely blocking my thoughts, for he showed no hesitation in identifying me. Then again, he could probably tell every family member apart by the sound of our footsteps. I entered the dim room to find Edward standing in front of the wall of windows, arms wrapped tightly about himself. He was staring across the trees to the river, a pose he favored when he was troubled.

I considered the various ways I could open a conversation, but all of them seemed fake, forced, exactly like I was spying for his father and presuming he was too dense to notice._ I won't disrespect his intelligence. He knows why I'm here._

"Ah, you've changed already." It was all I could think to say. _No wonder he changed, the shirt and pants he had come in were covered in muck like he'd been rolling around in the dirt. _He turned his head to glance at me with an apologetic grimace.

I reinforced the block on my thoughts when I saw his reaction. Carlisle had coached the whole family in ways to block Edward's mental intrusions, whether inadvertent or purposely prying, with varying degrees of success. Unless I was highly emotional or otherwise stressed, very little seemed to leak through for Edward to pick up. None of the family was quite as good at it as Carlisle, but then he'd had the most time with Edward to perfect the technique. It obviously irritated the boy to be shut out – he was so used to having access to anything he pleased from the minds around him - but he could not deny we had the right to keep our thoughts as private from him as he kept his from us.

I smiled sympathetically, walked up beside him, putting my right arm lightly around the back of his waist. Edward did not lean into my touch as he usually did when I showed him such affection. I saw this lack of his usual body language as reluctance to be touched. But, as my bond with him gave me the right to demand this level of affection, if he would not come to me, I would come to him. I moved a little closer, wrapping my left arm around the front of his chest. I leaned my head on his left arm, thus to embrace him. He did not lift his left arm to encircle my back and hold me closer - the next move in our choreographed mother/son dance that was, after so many years, intuitive in its fluidity. I tightened my embrace. He flinched.

_Is he … in pain? _Questions immediately flooded my mind. _Did he and Carlisle fight? Is that why his clothes were soiled? But Carlisle walked in as clean as he left… If Edward had fought with his father, of course Carlisle would overcome him… but Carlisle showed no signs at all of a struggle… Edward is certainly no weakling… Would he strike his father? Would he even defend himself? Probably not… so, did Carlisle attack him? Throw him? What could the reason have been? Why hadn't Carlisle given any indication to me there had been a struggle? _

I looked up at Edward only to realize he was looking down at me with an odd expression on his face. I stopped my wild musings and let my silent eyes pose the question.

"Dad didn't do anything to me mom. At least," he smiled humorlessly, "not since this morning."

_I got emotional. I forgot to block. _"Are you alright, son?"

"I think I will be. I'm going through a lot right now."

"I mean, physically, are you alright physically? Are you still hurting from this morning?" I felt my eyes glossing over with stinging wetness, but I didn't hide it from him. I wanted him to know how I felt. "I know what your father did. I- I'm so sorry. That type of … consequence… never, ever has my support, you know that. I don't care what you kids have done, you don't deserve to be treated like that."

"I know, mom. Don't beat yourself up about it. That stuff is between Dad and me. I can handle it."

"You shouldn't have to." I murmured.

Despite his attempt to sound casual, it was clear he was deeply troubled. I held him in silence for a moment, then I took his chin in my hand and turned his face to me. "You know how much I love you, don't you?" He nodded almost imperceptibly, not meeting my eyes. "I can see you're suffering. Let me in, baby. Let me help you."

He turned away from me and shook his head in refusal.

"Your father is suffering too. You know that. You can hear what he hides from everyone else." Edward bowed his shoulders as if to cower from pain. "You need him now. Let him help you." I gently rubbed his tense shoulders. "Stop being so proud and independent. Stop fighting him. Stop lying to him."

"I haven't lied, mama, I swear," my boy said quietly, "It's just…I'm afraid to tell him what I've done."

"Carlisle loves you more than his own life. No matter how bad it is, don't you think he has the ability to love you through it?" I reached up to caress a stray lock of hair from his eyes. The look he gave me was almost hopeful. "He deserves your trust, Edward."

He lifted his left arm to complete our embrace and pressed his cheek to the top of my head. Finally. This was the sign I needed. I'd gotten through his armor. He was hearing me, he was opening up to me.

A small irony. My son was agonizing, and I was distracted. I took emotional advantage of the moment. He stood there letting me hold him, drawing a mother's unselfish compassion from me, but I have to admit, my focus was in a slightly different place. When my adult children let me get this close to them - I revel in it. How could I focus on anything other than that rare moment - my son needing and accepting the comfort that is my singular gift to give him, trusting and loving me in return. Each time I get one of these incomparable moments, time stops as I commit it to memory and feel myself blissfully drowning as my heart overflows with gratitude. I delighted in the smell of him, the softness of his hair as I kissed his head, the way he took shelter in my arms in his vulnerability – my child – a part of me so often separate from me momentarily joined with me again. There's nothing like it.

"I will tell him everything mama, I will. I just don't know how yet. I don't have the words yet. I- I don't even know why I did it. Please try to understand that."

_My stubborn, tender, brilliant, hopelessly love-sick boy._ _I suffer with him, wrong or right. _I cradled his large masculine hand with its lovely, long musician's fingers in my small feminine ones, pressing my cheek to the back of it. "It's going to be alright baby, trust me."

I released him and turned to leave, but he held me with a word.

"Mom?"

I looked back at him. Standing there so seriously, he indeed looked like a young man. But there was something in his tone, in just that one word, that sounded … so much the scared little boy. My heart broke for him. What on earth had he done tonight that he felt he couldn't tell us?

"Is Dad going to … punish me…?"

I hesitated. "Well, I told him to just let it go tonight, but he wouldn't promise. If I were you, I would not push him again. I can't guarantee he won't push back harder next time!"

He nodded, then spoke no more. I felt him distancing himself again.

"Goodnight son. You know I love you."

"Thanks Mom," he whispered distractedly, and turned back to the window.

o-o-o-o-o-o


	9. 9 Made in His Image

**A/N **_This chapter is a little different than the others in this story. The first part and the last part all happen inside Carlisle's head. I know that's not the most thrilling place for some readers, but it definitely is for me. As a matter of fact, as happens to many authors, this chapter turned out eerily autobiographical. It's not exactly action-packed, and it won't be everybody's favorite kind of reading, but Carlisle has to have some time to get his thoughts straight and he has to communicate with Edward for the story's action to proceed.__Thanks for getting this far with me!_

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

**Made in his Image**

What was silent in the father speaks in the son,

& often I found in the son the unveiled secret of the father.

~Friedrich Nietzsche

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

Letting go was bliss. My muscles stubbornly resisted the softness beneath them until finally they surrendered to the mattress, their passive foe. Bed, the mute and attentive mistress who exists only to serve me, her sole purpose to embrace, to soothe, to caress. Only when the weight of my body settled onto hers, did my mind allow itself to accept the concept of rest. "[We are] a bundle of paradoxes," was Colton's wry comment. "We go to our bed with reluctance, yet we quit it with regret."

By nature of what I am, I am denied sleep, the little death, that gift of forgetfulness humans take for granted. Though speed, strength and untiring endurance are the gifts, if you will, of all my kind – we highly value stillness and crave true repose.

I extended my arm blindly to Esme's side of the bed. The emptiness there made me feel more than alone - unbalanced, incomplete, as if over the brink of a cold abyss. I withdrew my arm, clasping it protectively to my chest.

_She's in his room now. She's calming him, pulling him back from the edge by that psychic cord that ties mothers to their children. He wasn't born to her, but their bond is almost as strong as if he was her natural child._

_The other two boys are not much older than Edward, but they were more mature, less dependent, when they were turned. Esme certainly shows them affection, but they'll never be as completely hers as Edward is. If I know her as well as I think I do… she's indulging the opportunity of closeness with her youngest son. _

We all lost our parents, but not till we were older, and not until after we were changed. The epidemic carried Edward's parents swiftly into God's hands, and would certainly have taken him too, if I had not taken him first._ Talk about doctors playing God! _At seventeen, he was still physically immature and emotionally young for his years, though he was a prodigy intellectually. Even if by some miracle he had survived as a human, he would not have been ready to live independently. When Edward fell from the loving arms of his parents, it was me who caught him.

Reluctantly, he came to accept me, know me and trust me, fighting through desperate grief and anger as I patiently guided him through the ravenous and exhilarating newborn phase of his changed existence. I became everything to him: the engineer of his resurrection, his protector, his only family, his only friend. I became a father because this boy needed one.

As his adoptive guardian I found I came to love him with a fierceness I never anticipated. I had never before felt that bond of love with any human or vampire. The period of almost 300 years before Edward was a different life, scarred by loneliness in both my incarnations, living and dead. With Edward I was reborn - there is no better way to say it.

I can now think back with amusement on how intensely ugly things got for a while when Esme joined Edward and me in the early 1920's._ It was far from amusing then! _Instead of a potential mother, he saw only an intruder, a competitor for my affection. He raged. She forgave. He raged harder. She was a rock in that storm – for me and for him.

The boy's capacity for jealousy astounded me. I couldn't blame him, though. With his newborn animal instincts and his shattered human psyche, he survived moment-to-moment as best he could. Jealousy was just one of the many weapons in his survival arsenal. Esme was newborn at the time, turned by me three years after Edward, but managed her erratic appetites and instincts with much more maturity and aplomb.

He ran away from me, embarking on a prodigal Rumschpringe. He surrendered to the monster resident in all of us, feeding on humans, defying the abstinence I had taught him. But even in his frenzy, he exercised a rare rationality by drawing only evil-doers to his thirsty slaughter. The rigid morality bred into him led him to choose his victims based on their human crimes.

Only Esme knows how deeply Edward hurt me by leaving us… by leaving ME. He thought I had a new companion so I didn't want him any more._ Did he not understand my feelings for him? I will __never__ not want to be with him. If one of us leaves, it will always be him. _

To my relief and joy he eventually returned from his rebellious Walkabout, spiritually wounded but a bit wiser … appreciative of a home and caring companions. I laid down rules of behavior to limit and guide him. He seemed oddly grateful for the restrictions and for the most part was a model of obedience and cooperation. When he did occasionally break those rules he accepted my consequences.

He had to make compromises. The biggest one was accepting he was no longer the center of my universe._ Not my Sun, but my son. Our son_. He never really accepted Esme until that point. That's when he opened his heart to her as she had already opened to him long ago. I never cherished him more than when he allowed himself to love her as a mother. Someday I need to express that to him. His commitment was the key to our transformation. We became more than our tiny coven, more than the sum of our parts. The Cullen family that exists today began then.

I turned on the bedside lamp, illuminating the formal "family portrait" Jasper had taken when we moved back to Forks over a year ago. It was a photo crafted for humans to see, an image that reinforced our cover story. It was the one I kept on my desk at the hospital and in my wallet should anyone inquire about my family. Jasper had enlarged it and Esme had it framed and matted. In it we were loosely grouped in married pairs. I stood behind Esme, my hand on her shoulder, she seated before me wearing the one-of-a-kind Indian wild-silk dress I had given her. _Thank heavens she was photographed in it before Rose managed to borrow and destroy it!_ My unmarried boy knelt on the floor beside her, his head tilted ever-so-slightly towards her, her left hand resting on his neck just under his left ear – a gesture both affectionate and protective. I never tired of that detail.

I turned off the lamp again, closing my eyes in a vain attempt to still my racing mind.

The anger and frustration I experienced with him on the way home tonight left me shaken. I pride myself on my self-discipline, my mental control, but I felt myself falling tonight. The feral side of us lies caged within our reason, but we are always just a flash of instinct away from twisting free of those virtual bars. I shudder to think how I might have hurt him had I given in to the fury his resistance wrested from me.

_What on earth would make me react so strongly, so dangerously, to a being I only wish to protect? He doesn't trust me enough to tell me what happened to him? Is that what is irking me? I am always chiding Edward to control his temper, but the poor boy seems to fail more often than he succeeds. It serves me right to see my own temper can be a difficult beast to leash. _

_Esme wanted me to promise I won't lay a hand on him again today. I have to get through to him, and I have to maintain a position of authority for his sake as well as the rest of us. However, I am coming to the realization - what I have come to think of as my solid methods of parenting just aren't effective any more. He is changing, and I did not see it coming so soon. I need to do more than just punish him for failing my expectations. I need to understand the changes he is going through and I need to change with him._

_His actions will generate their own consequences without interference by me. He has to learn to be accountable for his mistakes. I can't rob him of the opportunity to solve his own problems. If he falls, I'm going to have to let him hit the ground hard and then get back up on his own. Can I just stand by and just watch my "child" fail? That's a strength I've never developed in myself._

My reverie was broken as Esme slipped into the bedroom. I waited for an illuminated glimpse of her face as she passed the window to approach me on the bed. She lowered herself gently, first filling the empty space with her presence, then moving close to me to melt and mold her possessing softness into my arms, my chest, my neck. I felt the tilt of her face and then the soft cushion of her lips as they nestled into my chest through the open front of my shirt. My body relaxed. Her presence alone lifted the weight of my thoughts from me.

I just held her in silence for a few minutes until the vibration of her voice against my breastbone roused me. "Carlisle." I tightened my embrace in response. She sighed. "You should go to him."

o~o~o~o~o

The moon that had so brightened the sky earlier had set but there was still some starlight coming through the wall of windows. The familiar thunder clouds were rolling in to obscure that rare, clear night sky. The descending staircases were dark, far below there was a very faint yellow glow from Esme's incandescent reading lamp on the first floor.

When I reached Edward's door, it fell ajar at my touch. _I hope he will be open with me... I'm so tired of being the bad guy today. _I could make out his silhouette, lying with his head buried in his arms, face down on the far side of his bed. I entered and clicked the door softly closed. I went to stand at the window, in the spot where he usually stood, bathed in mercurial starlight. I checked the locks on my thoughts.

He raised himself up slowly to sit on the edge of the bed. He wrapped his arms around his midsection, bending silently to suppress the pain I had earlier discovered there.

"Please talk to me." The huskiness in his voice indicated he had been crying.

"Shouldn't that be that my line?" I grimaced, keeping my gaze on the dim horizon. "You're the one keeping the secrets." No response. "What do you need from _me_, Edward?

"I just… I guess I just want to know what you're thinking right now."

"Why? Because you're afraid of being punished?" Edward said nothing. "May I remind you that you still owe me an explanation?"

"I know. I'm going to tell you what happened tonight, but - please stop blocking me. It's torture. It drives me crazy when you hide your thoughts from me. It makes me think the worst." He hesitated. "Should I be thinking the worst?"

"And what would the worst be, son? That I will hurt you? It seems you've found something worse than me to hurt you!"

"Carlisle, before you decide what you're going to do with me, if you haven't already, I need to explain to you what I've done. I've brought so much trouble on you all with my jealousy, my immaturity. Please listen without quickly judging me. You cannot imagine how hard it is to tell you this, and I don't know why. I'm afraid, and I don't know why."

_Why suddenly all this reticence?_ _He usually does not have a problem being open with me._ "You think I over-judge you?" The boy's silence implied assent. "I see."

"I think I easily and often disappoint you. You think my behavior is erratic and my emotions are overblown. I just can't seem to meet your standards."

_How can someone so loved be so insecure? It's maddening…_"Would it surprise you to know how easily and often I am proud of you? Maybe it's your own standards you aren't living up to?"

"Please," he sighed wearily. "I don't want to debate. I just want to know I have a clear connection with you right now. I have to tell you something important, and it's very difficult for me."

"I'm listening Edward, and I will be as non-judgmental as I possibly can, but I have a right to keep my thoughts to myself." I smiled to myself. "You'll just have to make do with facial cues and verbal inferences like the rest of us 'mere mortals.'" _Lord, give me patience!_

I turned away from the window to glance at him. He sat on his hands, his shoulders slumped, his eyes on the floor.

I turned again to face the window, hoping a non-confrontational stance would make it easier for him. "Where do you want to start?" I asked.

He sighed and fidgeted. "Jacob…"

I waited. He didn't continue. I shook my head. "Obviously you're hurt. Who hurt you? The wolves? They attacked you?"

"No."

"Jacob beat you up?"

"Yes… to the best of his ability… which I think I underestimated…"

He groaned as he readjusted his position on the bed. Earlier, in the clearing, I had found the pain in his abdomen, but now I noticed he favored positions that kept his back off the bed. _Strange_. _A fight usually leads to injuries of the head, shoulders and chest, not the back. Perhaps he fell? Hard to imagine, knowing his accelerated reflexes. Was he struck from behind? Also hard to imagine him being taken by surprise. Did Jacob merely use his fists…or was Edward hit with something else?_

"Forgive me, but how is that even possible?"

"He… I mean, I… well, I didn't stop him."

"You_ let_ him hurt you?" I heard the words out of my own mouth, but I couldn't process them. They made no logical sense. "I think you'd better explain."

"He was there at Bella's when I arrived at her house," Edward went on. "He was so angry! He was hostile and accusing - basically threatening to start a war. I told him to just… take it out on me… to leave my family alone."

"Oh, Edward, no…" I groaned.

"I had to do something - now," he whispered desperately, "to reduce the tension. I couldn't just wait for them to come down full force on me on Friday."

I paced between the window and the bed a few times, then stared unseeing out the window, frozen, thinking.

"Please say something, Carlisle."

I just couldn't decide what to do or tell him first. I was deeply shaken that he had taken it upon himself to do such a thing. I was furious at him for stepping outside chain of command. At the same time, my heart was breaking for him. At the same time, I felt strangely in awe of him.

"Carlisle, if you're planning to whip me … I …" his voice became thick, and there was a tone of pleading, almost despair, that caused my chest to contract in pain. I recognized this pain in my breast. This is how guilt always manifested in me – it felt like a hand squeezing my heart.

I turned my back to him to collect my thoughts. I had to look away. Even though I was effectively blocking him, I was afraid he could read everything in my expression. I finally took a deep breath and turned back to face him.

"We need to talk about this morning, son."

"Oh. This morning." I could tell he would prefer to avoid the subject.

"Yes. This morning." I held Edward's chin, lifting the boy's head until he had no choice but to meet my eyes. "Are you still angry with me?"

"I'm not angry," Edward mumbled, removing his chin from my hand, taking a step back, turning and bending his head away from my gaze - the source of his discomfort.

"You were angry this morning." I said, not accepting the denial. "You didn't fight my decision, though. I was surprised to have your cooperation, as angry as you were. Do you think my decision to punish you was unfair? Was I too harsh?"

'Since when does it matter what I think?" was the mumbled reply.

"It matters what you think, Edward." I sighed, trying to hide the smile that threatened to steal over my lips.

"Will my opinion give me any control over my own life?" Edward exclaimed, walking past me, finding his familiar meditation pose at the window. His voice cracked as he fought his emotions. "'Cause that's what I desperately need now."

As much as I wanted to comfort him, I wanted to scold him at the same time. I refrained from either. I sensed he was on the brink of opening up, and this is what I had come for.

I started to approach him, but a change in his expression stopped me.

"Earlier, in the car, I tried to voice to you that a man has to keep some things private. You ridiculed me. "

"I didn't mean it to sound that way."

"It sounded exactly that way."

I looked at him, but I couldn't apologize to him for my earlier reaction. It was definitely difficult for me to think of him as a man, an equal. I couldn't even fake it to make him feel better at that moment.

He shook his head, unsatisfied with my lack of response. "I know I broke my word to you tonight. I know I promised I would be home by midnight. By leaving Bella's I know I violated the grounding you placed on me… the grounding I agreed to. I know I deserve your anger."

"It's not about my anger, son. What concerns me is that you chose to disobey, to act without my authority, so you put yourself in harm's way. Don't you see that?"

"I acknowledge your 'concern,'" he responded, his acrimony barely disguised. "You said earlier I must have had a good reason for breaking a promise to you. You're right. I did. I decided to take the opportunity to apologize to Jacob. That was my effort to rectify my mistake. The discussion took a physical turn, and when he chose to hit me… I chose to not hit him back. I did what I thought you would do."

"What I would do?" I echoed. My heart compressed. "You think because I take a public stand as a pacifist, I wouldn't fight back to protect myself? He hesitated, looking me in the eye.

"I think you would do what you had to, yes, if your family's welfare depended on it."

"If you think I would make myself a victim or ask you to do such a thing, you do not know me. You didn't have to do this. The family didn't need you to endanger yourself like this."

"Really, Carlisle, I wasn't in danger of anything but embarrassment … and discomfort – and I deserved at least that, don't you think? Anyway, that's how guys solve problems – they fight it out, right? What Jacob did to me is the punishment that fits my crime, Dad, not the one you delivered to me across my bed this morning." He turned his head to hide the scowl that twisted his features, but the bitterness that twisted his normally smooth voice was evident.

_This morning was as excruciating for me as it was for him… _I was close enough to touch him now. I clasped his shoulders, looking down at the random copper curls on his bowed head. He shriveled from my touch, wrapping his arms around his chest tightly, like he wanted to fold into himself and disappear. I just put my arms around him and held him anyway.

"Carlisle," he said with an unfamiliar determined firmness. "I need to make decisions for myself. If I fuck up, I will figure out how to fix it."

I smiled to myself. _My always-proper Edward just said "fuck!_ I knew when he used profanity, the words were carefully chosen for effect, but I couldn't help but find it refreshing somehow – any break from the boy's crippling rigidity was welcome.

"Don't you think you might need some help on Friday?" I suggested, trying to keep the smile out of my voice. There was no way I would let him face the tribe alone, not with so much at stake for all of us. He unfolded his arms and wrapped them around me.

"Yeah. I still need you sometimes," he admitted begrudgingly. I could feel the tension in his body dissipate as he voiced that small confession. I was glad he couldn't see my satisfied grin.

_Is it stressful being responsible and independent, son?_

"Are you ashamed of the decision you made tonight?" I asked. "The decision to refrain from defending yourself?" He did not respond immediately.

"No," he finally whispered. A venom teardrop splashed onto the floor at my feet, then another. I pressed my cheek to the top of his head.

"Neither am I," I told him.

He leaned into my chest, breathing irregularly, and his legs started to give way. I tightened my hold to keep him upright, and he groaned at the unexpected pressure on his bruised back. With one hand I reached for the blue blanket he kept for Bella at the foot of the bed. I wrapped it around him, and helped gravity take him to the surface of the bed. I sat beside him, never taking my hand from him, moving it lightly across his back and shoulders.

"They'll leave us alone now," he said after a while.

"We'll see," I sighed. I didn't think they would. This Jacob kid had a vendetta, and he would push as _far_ as he could to hurt Edward as _much_ as he could. If Jacob was not absolutely obligated to show mercy, he would not show any. I could hear my father's voice at his pulpit, "_The heart of man is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: Who can know it?"_

"Thank you for being honest, Edward. At least I won't be blindsided in front of the council on Friday." I paused, turning his face to mine. "Or will I? Have you left anything out? Please don't do that to me. I really will lose face. Is there anything else you should tell me?"

He shook his head.

"Alright, I need to spend some time alone. I'll be in my study. It's been one hell of a day. You know the drill. No music, no computer, no TV, no DVDs, no Playstation, no piano, no books. You may not leave your room."

"Even prisoners get to read…," the boy complained under his breath, wrapping the blue blanket more tightly around himself.

"No school for you tomorrow or Friday," I added. He visibly stiffened.

"No! Please! Bella - " He raised his head in protest for a moment, then backed down.

"Bella - what?" I said curtly.

"Nothing," he sighed with resignation, burying his face deep into the blue cocoon of the blanket, saturated with Bella's scent.

Minutes later, stretched out on the sofa in my study, I just wanted to make the world go away.

Edward, and only Edward, had caused the problem at hand, yet I felt personally responsible. Whether this was a parent thing, a coven leader thing or just a Carlisle thing, the burden was on my back, no question there. His violation of the treaty was not a mistake I could just leave for a new "independent" Edward to try to fix. This was serious, and the repercussions could be far-reaching for all of us, from having to move away to having to defend ourselves from attack.

I bracketed one idea in my head - the council meeting on Friday. My logical mind held the problem away from me at a mental 'arms length' to examine it.

The vampires that wreaked havoc in the ancient history of the Quileute tribe were unknown to me and my family, but when we came to the Forks area in the 30's we were assumed to be a continuation of that, admittedly, dire threat. In addition, the fact that we hunted so extensively was a severe imposition to a native people that still partially lived off the land. Even though Edward preferred feline predators and Emmett preferred bears, over-hunting of those animals would also upset the balance of wildlife, so I understood their concern.

Unlike the "whites" of Forks, the tribe leaders had no illusions as to what we were, and I knew I had to deal with that knowledge head on. Fortunately, in our remote corner of the world, the Volturi had never investigated us, so were completely unaware of this body of humans to whom we were exposed. I took it upon myself to communicate with the tribal elders, and although I did not convince them we were very different in motivation and intention than those rogue vampires of long ago, I did succeed in establishing an agreement, a treaty, by which we were able to live in wary proximity for many years.

The Cullen coven left the Pacific Northwest for over 60 years. When we returned in 2005, we had increased by two members, surely an intimidating fact for the modern tribal elders, who began to see physical transformations, shape shifting, in response to our presence. Their sons were altered by our mere presence, in a very visceral, unavoidable way.

I tried to imagine their perspective of us. How deep was their resentment? How strong was their fear? How potent was their hatred?

Dare I even hope that I could turn this situation around? Was I clever enough to talk these people out of a hundred or more years of apprehension? Was it hubris to think I could not only repair the insult but build a stronger bond with them in the process? Who the hell did I think I was?

My whole life, prayer had been an instinctive reaction in me, to fear as well as joy. It had been engrained in my psyche through my human upbringing – put God first, and all else follows.

I quieted my mind as much as I could. Then, dragging up the emotional burden that weighted me down, I lifted my mind in supplication.

"_Father, I know you hear me, abomination that I am. You created everything, so you created me too. I will not dishonor you by reviling myself, your creation. You cannot ignore me, because I won't let you. I have to believe you have some purpose for me because you allow my kind to exist. Like Lot in Sodom and Gomorrah…have you found 10 of us that worship you, and for that small remnant, you do not destroy us all? _

_I have never taken a life except those four whose lives I took to give back to them, Edward, Esme, Rosalie and Emmett. Yet I have created "children" that have murdered. I have done what I thought I must to steer them towards you, but still they stray. Let me take on their sins. Blame me, not them. It is my inadequacy, my deafness to you, that has brought us to this pass, and for that I repent. _

_Father, show me what to do when I face the council. I know there's a key; please, please show me. Father, all things are possible for you. Please forgive us, let them forgive us and… let Jacob forgive Edward. Better - let these boys forgive each other. And while I'm asking, I want more than just resolution of this problem, I want a __real__ peace between our clans. I want friends and allies, not just reluctant neighbors._

_I'm not trying to be arrogant. I'm just reminding you and myself that you do care for us. If I don't ask, how shall I be given? Well, I'm asking now. That doesn't mean you don't know what's best for me. I lay down this burden and let you bear it for me. Above all, not my will but thine be done." _

As I whispered "Amen,"I opened my eyes slowly, letting the room gradually come into focus. My brain felt lighter, my body more relaxed. Just acknowledging I couldn't do everything by myself made me feel more capable of doing just that.

My elevated gaze rested on the top shelf of my bookcase across the room, and I ran my eyes in a loving, nostalgic arpeggio across the ancient spines. A volume with a thick, dull green fabric cover stopped me. The title on the spine was worn off. I felt a quickening flutter in my chest – as if I still had a fragile, live, beating heart. I leapt up from the sofa, rolled the library ladder into position and had the book in my hand in seconds. _I had forgotten this book! _

_Tribal Law and Customs on the Olympic Peninsula_ was authored in 1928 by Thelma Adamson, an associate-professor in cultural anthropology at the University of Washington in Seattle. She had been one of the first women to conduct ethnographic fieldwork in the Pacific Northwest. It had been the first written compilation of Quileute and Hoh tribal law and customs. These tribes, like most First Peoples, maintained an exclusively oral storytelling tradition. This book had had a very limited first and only printing before the inspired young academic disappeared into obscurity. I had pulled it from a discard pile at the UW's library when I had taken a physician's continuing education course there.

I started thumbing through it as I absentmindedly descended the ladder. Under the section that covered domestic crimes I saw Stalking or "poisoned love" as Chief Black had mentioned. The most severe sentence for that violation was corporal punishment. He hadn't mentioned that. Evidently the sentence had been revised in modern times.

There was a section on the hierarchy of tribal authority, respect for tribal elders, and consequences for rebellion or disobedience to them by those inside the tribal society. _Interesting. I'll have to read that more carefully._

There was a section on the role of the Tribal Council when dealing with outsiders. On these occasions, they were referred to as the Peacemakers' Council, conceived to mediate where the offense or issue fell outside the jurisdiction of tribal, state and federal laws. They did not decide fault or sentencing in the matter, but worked with both parties towards a mutually agreeable end.

I don't even remember touching down on the floor and returning to the couch, but two hours later I closed the pages on my many post-it bookmarkers, feeling I was much better apprised of the attitudes, traditions and expectations of the people we would be facing. I hadn't formulated a plan yet, but I had faith something would come to me by the time I needed to intercede for my son.

Author's Notes:

_Rumschpringe__ or __Rumspringa__ (n): an Amish rite of passage; the practice of releasing teenagers to explore the outside world, its sins and pleasures._

_Walkabout__ (n): an Australian Aboriginal __rite of passage__ during which males would undergo a journey during adolescence and live in the wilderness for a period_

Thelma Adamson really did conduct ethnographic fieldwork in the Pacific Northwest!


End file.
